


below the line of your heart

by m_feys



Series: I gotta get out (and make this better) [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: (A LOT of hurt/comfort), AU - Tosh and Ianto don't die, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Case Fic, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I may add more platonic relationship tags as i go, Lois is part of the team, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, POV Multiple, Suspense, Team Bonding, accidentally ianto-centric, references to COE, specifics of that are not written here but i have ideas if i continue with this verse, that will be explained later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_feys/pseuds/m_feys
Summary: “I’ve seen snake bites— I’vediedto snake bites,” he laughed at the admission, though there was no humor in it. His breathing came unevenly as he turned around to point out the nasty looking injuries on the shoulders.“They lookwrong,” he emphasized.
Relationships: Ianto Jones & Toshiko Sato, Ianto Jones & the team, Jack Harkness & Martha Jones, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Lois Habiba & Ianto Jones
Series: I gotta get out (and make this better) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740862
Comments: 62
Kudos: 90





	1. Martha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm estimating the chapter number!! It might end up being less or it might end up being more. Right now that seems about right but it may change as I continue with the story.
> 
> This is my longest fic to date! and I really want to finish it, but I can't promise anything! If I don't finish, I'll write up a summary of the ending as a final chapter.
> 
> So, a few important things to note about this au: I already know how this comes about and where it diverges from canon, but I haven't written that part out yet, because the au was mainly created for my want of more of torchwood just working on cases, so that's where this came from. if you want a short explanation of the specifics of the au comment to let me know!
> 
> I'm editing this on my own, so let me know if you spot any mistakes! and i hope you enjoy!

“The perforations in the skin do look remarkably similar to snake bites but the fact that there’s another set parallel on the other shoulder seems like an incredibly unlikely coincidence.” Martha glanced up from the photos to look at Jack. Lois was standing just behind him, trying to make herself look smaller behind his shoulder. She made sure to give the girl a smile, knowing she must feel intimidated. It was, after all, the first case she’d sniffed out on her own. “It’s worth looking into,” she nodded to them.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Jack agreed, turning to Lois to clap an enthusiastic hand on her shoulder. “Good spot, Lois,” he congratulated.

She ducked her head, her smile was still tense but she looked genuinely happy, “thank you, sir.”

“Alright,” Jack called out, grabbing the attention of the entire hub after he'd turned away from her, pounding up the stairs of the autopsy bay as he went. Lois seemed to relax infinitely as soon as the attention was off of her. “Gwen, I want you talking to the family. See if the child had any strange incidents or behavior leading up to this.” His voice was stern as he shifted easily into being their self-assured leader, giving them orders efficiently as always. 

Gwen sighed in return, “I’ll get on it, Jack, but I’m not sure they’ll be wanting to talk about something like this so soon.”

“It’s gotta be done,” Jack countered simply, his voice kept carefully neutral. “Ianto, I need you researching the area, look for any sightings around there, or any other explanations, a snake infestation, or any human-made causes for this. It might be alien, it might not.”

Ianto only nodded shortly, before moving away, out of Martha’s line of sight, likely to start his work at a computer.

Jack whirled then, his coat fanning out around him as he did, “Lois, I want you to keep your ear to the pavement, watch for any other cases even remotely similar and keep track of them.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered with a nod.

“Martha you’re with me, we’re gonna have a look at the victim and if it turns out to be alien we’ll have to secure the body.”

“Got it, Jack,” she agreed, turning away now too so she could gather everything she needed for a comprehensive analysis outside of the hub.

“And Tosh,” Jack went on, his voice was raised enough that carried easily to her even when she turned away “I want you to keep at that program for the readings of the solar flares if the radiation is causing rift spikes like you suspect that’s something we need to know, _pronto_.”

“I should be finished with it in a week max, three days if I’m able to focus solely on this program,” Tosh answered distantly, sounding distracted.

Martha pulled her bag over her shoulder, already having had most of her mobile equipment packed and only needing to grab a few things. Lois was still standing in the middle of the autopsy bay, watching the stairs and looking a bit lost. Jack had stationed himself at the top of the steps, commanding attention and, presumably, blocking her escape.

“C’mon,” Martha offered, tapping her shoulder gently to get the other woman’s attention.

Lois turned to look at her, face carefully schooled into neutrality but her eyes were held just a bit too wide. “I know he’s a bit intimidating, he has that effect on people,” she confided to her softly, and Lois seemed to relax with the words, letting out a breath, “but he’s not so bad,” Martha assured her with a fond wrinkle of her nose.

Lois nodded quickly, still looking nervous but she was following behind as Martha mounted the stairs.

“‘Scuse us, Jack,” Martha called out and right on cue he was stepping back and out of the way.

He tipped his head to them politely as they moved past, “ladies,” he spoke, smiling as he fell into step behind them, heading for the cog door.

It was already rolling aside as they approached, and the three of them stepped onto the lift, Jack pressing the buttons for the garage, and the tourist office above it for Lois.

“How’s the husband?” Jack asked conversationally, easily slipping into casual familiarity in every moment they had to spare. She knew how quickly they had to be able to switch it off or the strain would never end, not with this sort of job.

“He’s still not taking your offer, Jack,” Martha informs him with a smile pulling at her lips, she stood facing the door. “He’s ‘going freelance’, he says,” she offered up in amusement.

“That’s not why I asked,” Jack scolded her for the assumption, but she could hear the smile in his tone without even having to see it on his face to know it was there. “I just wanted to know how he was,” he corrected her, sounding overly innocent.

“He’s _fine_ , Jack. I’ll let him know you were thinking of him.”

“Oh, please do,” Jack purred and Martha could only roll her eyes fondly.

“How about you, Lois?” Martha spoke, turning a glance over her shoulder to get a read of her. She wanted to include her in the conversation. Martha herself had been the odd one out in the room too many times, the invisible one, misplaced, she knew exactly how it felt. She hoped this girl would come to feel welcome here. “Got anyone on the horizon?”

Louis jerked her head up to meet her gaze, seemingly startled to have been included in the conversation. Her eyes flicked to Jack warily, but he was only smiling slightly, looking ahead and keeping his eyes on the doors. Maybe he knew it would keep her on edge to know he was paying close attention.

“No, not really. I mean, I’ve only been in Cardiff for a few months,” she spoke awkwardly, but she met Martha’s eye all the while.

“It can be hard to meet people in a new place, especially with this job,” Martha told her with a sympathetic smile.

“You might ask Gwen, she knows some actual normal people. She even goes out sometimes,” Jack mused with a smirk pulling at his features.

Martha turned to smack his arm. “ _Excuse you_ , I know ‘normal people’ too,” she objected. He glanced down to give her a doubtful look.

“Exactly how many of these people were directly involved in a world-threatening catastrophe?” he questioned wryly.

Martha hesitated, realizing she had no answer. Her family had endured one apocalypse and all her current friends were U.N.I.T. operatives or Torchwood members. And Mickey, who could not really be counted as ‘normal’ by most standards, of course, neither could she. It was part of why she’d married him.

She bit her lip and gave Jack a look before turning back towards Lois, earning a snort from Jack in response.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Martha segued, drawing the word out pointedly, “my point is, you can ask any of us if you wanna go out.” 

“The team goes out for drinks sometimes too,” Jack added, “on slow nights, but we haven’t had one of those in a while,” his tone was light with humor, but there was something dead-tired under the words as he said it.

“And you can come along if we get the chance,” Martha concluded, glad that she and Jack seemed to be on the same page about this. They had always understood one another well, even with things that went unspoken.

Lois was blinking at her still, eyes jumping between Martha and Jack. “Oh, um, thank you,” she said giving her a half-smile, and Martha smiled back at her brightly. She would get her out of that shell yet.

“And Ianto knows all the best pubs,” Jack tacked on, then, sounding a little smug about it as he concluded, “he knows all the best _everything_.”

“Guess there was a reason he was manning the tourist office then,” Lois mused, her voice kept low like she thought the observation might be out of line somehow.

“Yep,” Jack laughed, “exactly.”

“Oh, yeah, Ianto was the one to tell me about this place when I moved, it was this little—” She cut herself off as the lift slowed, inertia lightening their gravity slightly as they came to a halt. The speaker above them chimed helpfully as the doors slid open. The ride up from the hub was always rather long, long enough to fill up the silence with a conversation.

She glanced back at Lois, smiling as she did, “well, I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Keep Ianto updated on what you find,” Jack told her as he stepped around Martha out of the lift before turning to look at them, one of his arms across the door to keep it open. “He’ll be compiling related information as he goes.

Lois nodded sharply at that, stiffening up again as soon as Jack spoke directly to her. “Yes, sir,” she confirmed and Jack’s smile fell slightly.

Martha shot her one last smile and a nod goodbye, before stepping out to follow Jack as he’d started walking purposefully towards the SUV.

“I swear, she and Ianto have some sort of pact going,” Jack muttered as Martha quickened her pace to catch up with him and his long stride.

“What, with them being respectful to you? Is that part of their plot?” Martha teased.

“It’s the ‘make-Jack-feel-as-much-like-a-stuffy-asshole-as-possible’ contract and I know he made her sign it when she joined on,” he groused and Martha giggled, shaking her head as she stepped around to the passenger door when they reached the car.

“They’re just used to working in places with a strictly upheld chain-of-command,” she reasoned with him.

“Ianto has been working here for _years_ , that can’t be his excuse anymore!” Jack decided.

“Oh, well, he just does it to get on your nerves,” Martha informed him easily, smiling demurely. Jack just let out a slow breath through his nose. “Seems like it’s working,” she added helpfully as he gave her a mean side-eye, but of course there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

By the time they were out of the loading doors that hid their garage, and onto the road, he was in good spirits again. It never took long for Jack to bounce back.

“So, ‘freelancing’?” he prompted as he drove, watching the road ahead with a grin pulling at his lips.

Martha shook her head, “yes, that’s what he’s been calling it.”

“And does this have more of a ‘vigilante’ or ‘contract-killer’ vibe?” 

Martha snorted, “Jack, you should already know,” she chided him mildly, “of _course_ he’s moonlighting as a vigilante.”

Jack only grinned wider at that, “and how _exactly_ is he getting paid for this ‘freelancing’?”

“He’s not,” Martha answered wryly, “I’m paying for it.”

Jack cackled beside her, “and we have our bread-winner!”

“Was there ever any confusion about that?” Martha asked in disbelief, Jack did know she was a doctor. He’d hired her as one, after all.

“No,” he answered easily, “but I thought he might have an actual job considering he keeps turning me down,” he spoke, sounding slightly put-off.

“It’s not personal, Jack,” she assured him softly.

“I just mean, what we do can’t be far off from whatever it is that he’s doing on his own. And it’s a safer operation when you have actual back-up,” he reasoned, his tone was kept carefully even but she could tell from the set of his jaw that he was getting frustrated.

“I don’t really like it either,” she admitted quietly, “but it’s his choice, Jack. I think he’s tired of following orders. He wants to go out and just help where he sees it’s needed.”

Jack sighed heavily, “I bet he does superhero shit like stopping purse-snatchers and disrupting political plots.”

Martha smiled at the words, “he does dabble in regular crises, not just aliens.” And she loves that about him, oftentimes the red tape of officiality got in the way of what was right.

“Well, send him my love,” Jack decided, tension easing, “and tell him to come around sometime,” he added in exasperation. Then, in a flash, he was back to grinning, giving her a pleased glance before focusing back on the road. “Of course, I could more than survive just from seeing your _beautiful_ face every day,” he spoke, words dripping with his usual charm and she found herself grinning along, “but there’s something about seeing the pair of you together— you _glow_.”

“I’ll tell him,” she assured him, smiling warmly now.

“And as usual,” he added, voice going low and smirking sharply, “make sure to tell him there’s always room for one more.”

At that, she laughed in delight, he used that innuendo every time they discussed hiring Mickey, an inside joke.

* * *

Getting into the morgue was easy, you say the name Torchwood in Cardiff and everyone steps aside. One of the perks, she supposed, of being based in one place permanently, the locals knew what to expect. At U.N.I.T. this sort of thing had always been a hassle, with mountains of procedure to contend with at every step. Her first temporary transfer to Torchwood had taken two hours straight of conferencing before it had been approved.

“Based on the swelling and the discoloration around the punctures, I’d say we can rule out anything man-made, these holes were not made neatly, and it looks like they hooked into the skin. Exactly what you would see with snake bites, with the curvature of the fang,” Martha spoke, drawing herself up to look at Jack.

He was only looking down at the small cold body on the table with a blank expression.

She waited a long moment before she cautiously spoke, “Jack?”

At the sound of his name, he seemed to rouse himself and took several quick inhales as if he’d been holding breath. He met her eyes then, mouth set in a grim line, “ok,” he said, tone hushed like he was trying not to draw attention to the words, even though they were the only ones in the room. “What about the venom?”

“I don’t have a kit for detecting snake venom, so I’ll have to cross-check for it back at the hub, but it’s not registering any known alien or human toxins,” she said, bracing her hands on the metal table and watching Jack carefully as his eyes drifted back down to the corpse between them.

She watched the line of his throat shift as he swallowed, still staring down at the ashen body of the little boy.

“Jack,” she spoke again softly, gently calling for him to stop. “There’s nothing more we can do here, we should head back.”

“Something’s wrong,” he said, voice still so kept so carefully quiet. It was unsettling, when Jack was such a big personality, to hear him make himself sound small.

“We can figure out more about it at the hub,” she insisted. She’d watched her mother’s hands stop and fumble any time she reached for a dinner plate, watched her go blank first then break down and cry. She could see this response for what it was. She wanted to get him out of here before it got any worse.

“No, no,” he muttered, “I mean, these don’t look right,” he told her, finally lifting his eyes to hers again and when he did she saw they were red-rimmed. He looked devastated.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, turning away for a moment. She stepped around the table to stand at his side, placing a single hesitant hand on his back, just between his shoulder blades. She wished Ianto were here with him, instead of just herself.

“I’ve seen snake bites— I’ve _died_ to snake bites,” he laughed at the admission, though there was no humor in it. His breathing came unevenly as he turned around to point out the nasty looking injuries on the shoulders.

“They look _wrong_ ,” he emphasized, “it should be worse than this. More tearing. Where’s the marks of the lower jaw?” he wondered.

She stopped, considering what he was saying. When she’d been studying the photos in the file, she’d toyed with the possibility of this actually having been done by snakes. At the time she’d surmised the child would have been lying back in the grass and the lower jaw would have cut into the back of the shoulders. But now, when she reaches a gloved hand to check for marks anywhere on the back, there’s nothing to show for it.

“You’re right,” she said, “I’ll need to do a full autopsy,” she decided. ER injuries had never been her thing. She’d always been doing more delicate surgeries, or careful dissections of all sorts of aliens when she'd worked with U.N.I.T. She had very little reference for everyday crises. Normal injuries might slip under the radar, she wouldn’t overlook that lack of experience next time.

Martha reached for the zipper of the body bag, aligning the flap and tugging it closed.

Rolling off her gloves, she tucked them into the medical waste bin and settled her bag back over her shoulder. 

“C’mon,” she spoke, grabbing hold of Jack’s arm to guide him safely out of the room while he stared unseeingly ahead of them, “I’ll call Ianto,” she decided, speaking aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note: part of the plot of this fic is incidentally similar to one of the audio dramas, but im not sure how similar because I've never listened to them (because I am poor). The only reason I know about it is because I heard a small clip on youtube. I'll explain more what I mean when we reach that part of the story, but if you start to think, "huh, this is kinda similar to that," please know that I didn't do it on purpose.
> 
> Please, please let me know if you like it, it helps me know if I should keep going. Next chapter is Ianto's POV! It'll probably be out in a few days, but i'm very forgetful so we'll see.


	2. Ianto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jack? Jack,” he called out to him softly, one hand curling around his arm, fingers pressing into the thick wool of his coat like he had so many times before. “Are you with me?”

“The body will be delivered tomorrow morning,” Ianto told them as soon as he stepped through the door. Jack was in the same spot as when he’d left them and Martha was sitting in the chair beside him now, with his hand clutched between her own, “I’ll take care of it,” he assured them, though he wasn’t certain Jack heard him.

“Thank you, Ianto,” Martha smiled at him. She’d asked him to request the delivery in her stead. He understood why Martha would rather someone who was familiar with the staff did the talking, they knew him well enough to recognize him, after all. It was something he would normally take care of anyway, himself or Jack, that is.

He came to stand in front of her, Jack hadn’t acknowledged his presence so far and was staring blankly at the far wall. He only blinked when Ianto crossed his sightline. He got like this sometimes. It was horrifying if Ianto was willing to be blunt about it, Jack was always so full of passion. It was awful to see him look so empty.

This was a defense mechanism, Ianto knew that much. That was easy to parse, what with everything Jack had been through, his body would simply shut off any emotional response. To keep him from feeling each death, over and over, keep him from being aware he was choking on dirt in his lungs for two thousand years, keep him from self-destructing after everything he’d done.

Dissociation was a trauma response, and Jack had a hell of a lot to respond to.

“This happened with the child?” Ianto asked her, keeping his voice low.

Martha nodded sadly, “he recognized that the snake bites didn’t look right, but he couldn’t seem to stop staring at the body and after we left the room I haven’t gotten a word out of him.”

Ianto nodded, moving around to sit on his other side.

“Jack? Jack,” he called out to him softly, one hand curling around his arm, fingers pressing into the thick wool of his coat like he had so many times before. “Are you with me?” he breathed, intently watching Jack’s impassive face in profile.

Slowly, Jack’s eyes drifted down to the chairs in front of him instead of the wall.

It was something. Ianto slid his hand down his arm then, interlacing their fingers. This was rare, they didn’t touch like this, not where other people could see. But touch always helped bring Jack back down.

“Jack?” he called again.

The man blinked, and he didn’t meet Ianto’s eye but his gaze skimmed across the floor to stare down at Ianto’s knee pressed next to his own.

“You talking about me?” he wondered belatedly.

“Yes, Jack,” he confirmed, smiling at him slightly, Ianto had plenty of practice with helping him through this since the 456. “Always the center of attention, you are,” he added fondly, gently teasing, trying to get a response.

Jack closed his eyes for a long second before blinking them open again and seeming to take in his surroundings.

“Well,” he breathed, “it’s rude to talk about someone like they’re not even there,” Ianto knew it was meant as a joke but Jack’s tone fell flat and his expression was still completely gutted.

“Yes,” Ianto agreed, lifting their hands to press Jack’s hand between his palm and his chest. “I’m sorry. You know how I hate to be rude.”

Then Jack finally, _finally_ looked at his face. “Ianto, when did you get here?” he asked, brows pinching as his gaze sharpened.

“About twenty minutes ago,” Ianto answered, keeping Jack’s hand pinned to his chest, knowing not to let go until Jack made a move to pull away. “Martha called me,” he explained.

Jack turned them, almost seeming startled but his expressions were still muted. He saw her at his side then, with her own small hands clutching at Jack’s large calloused palm. He swallowed as he looked at her.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“Well, don’t apologize,” she scolded him instantly, “I was just worried about you, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she assured him insistently.

He sighed, lowering his head, Ianto knew without him having to say it that he was frustrated and upset with himself, “I just shouldn’t— I can’t—” he tried to speak, words catching each time.

Ianto didn’t interrupt but dropped his head to press his lips to Jack’s fingers. At the contact Jack paused, glancing at Ianto before he took a slow breath.

“I wish this didn’t happen while I was working,” he spoke in a measured voice, clearly desperate just to have his thoughts heard. Any other time he would only try to deflect.

“You can’t control when this happens, Jack, and that’s no fault of yours,” Martha told him, voice gentle but held firm with no room for argument.

“That, and you’re _always_ working,” Ianto added mildly, “maybe you should take some time off,” he suggested softly, knowing he was about to get shot down.

“The rift in space-time above our heads doesn’t exactly account for vacation days,” Jack said, frustration coloring his tone, they’d had this discussion plenty of times already. Ianto feels his own frustration rise to match, he said ‘vacation days’ so flippantly, as if Ianto was saying he should just twiddle his thumbs rather than taking some much-needed recovery time. But Jack never, ever stopped or slowed down.

“We could handle the rift long enough for you to take a break,” Martha countered, “you and Ianto,” she added quietly. Ianto ached at the idea, if only.

“We’re in the middle of a case, we’re not talking about this right now,” Jack spoke, and tugged his hand away from Ianto’s grasp. Ianto tried not to let the hurt show on his face as he let go and watched Jack fold his hands together in his lap, keeping out of their reach.

 _Yes, because that_ wasn’t _how Jack avoided everything. Of course, they were going to talk about it 'later,'_ Ianto mouthed off bitterly in his head but kept his expression carefully neutral.

“Let’s get back to the hub,” Ianto announced aloud, watching Jack open his mouth to object and prepare to shake his head no.

He didn’t want the others to see him in this state, Ianto knew, and Jack planned to avoid them until he was ready to bear a grin and brandish a gun and be their fearless leader again. 

“I’ve found something,” he spoke, cutting Jack off before he could begin. He knew the temptation of work was more than enough to convince him to leave this place. Why did Ianto always fall hardest for the damn workaholics? Maybe it was because, more often than not, he operated the same way. Always avoiding what was in his head with as many tasks as could occupy his hands. Still, Ianto was loath to admit he _might_ be as stubborn as Jack because it was incredibly infuriating to be on the receiving end of it.

He wasn’t lying either, he had _actually_ found something, but it wasn’t urgent. Ianto just wanted him back in a controlled space, rather than this very public waiting room, he knew Jack couldn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable here, no one would.

“Ok,” Jack agreed finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, just a note, I personally do not have dissociative episodes so I did some research when writing this for Jack, I tried to stay within how he's been portrayed in canon while making his episodes more acknowledged. I know dissociation is different for everyone, but if you have any corrections or criticisms to how I wrote Jack here, please let me know.
> 
> Let me know what you think, next chapter is Gwen's POV!


	3. Gwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The room seemed to freeze with the words and Gwen waited for the screaming, for Jack to tell her to get out and clear her head. But, surprisingly, it was Ianto who moved first. He stood so fast his chair hit the wall behind him with a bang.

Jack and Ianto were still holed up in Jack’s office, having some sort of intense conversation. At least, that’s what it looked like from her limited view through the windows as she’d trotted up the stairs to the conference room.

Martha had smiled at her sweetly and informed her that nothing had gone wrong at the morgue, but they’d wanted Ianto there to secure the body promptly, as he had the most experience dealing with the hospital staff. Gwen trusted Martha. It was the gut instinct she’d had about the woman since she’d first met her. The feeling that you could put your faith in her and she wouldn’t let you down. And Gwen followed her instincts, more often than not. They’d kept her in one piece so far. So, she took her at her word, letting the odd behavior slide and wrote it off as _couple troubles_.

Of course, she couldn’t help being curious, it was in her nature. It was what had landed her this job after all. It was immense, instinctual— possibly idiotic— _curiosity_ that had found her in Torchwood.

She watched intently as Jack finally joined them in the conference room, holding two mugs. Ianto followed behind with his tray in hand, doling out the remaining drinks as Jack waited patiently with Ianto’s own held aloft.

“Thanks,” she said absently as Ianto set her mug down, only tea for her in her current state. He just gave her a small smile as he moved on to Tosh.

It was odd, Jack usually didn’t wait to start the briefings, he would go over anything Ianto already knew with the rest of the team while Ianto made their coffee. Maybe that had been a problem for Ianto, maybe he was tired of being left out of the discussion. But she’d never noticed Ianto looking put off by it. It was only for the sake of efficiency, after all, things weren’t the same as they had been before. Ianto was _more_ than just ‘part of the team.’

Or maybe Jack had followed him down to the coffee maker and just decided to help out. Still, he hadn’t started talking, even now that they were all here. Instead, his gaze followed Ianto’s movements around the table.

Only after Ianto set Lois’s cup down and smiled kindly at her emphatic, “thank you,” did he move back towards Jack and take hold of his own cup. The pair shared a look for a stretched-out moment. Gwen herself had no idea what the wary note in Jack’s eye meant, but they seemed to come to an understanding as Ianto nodded his thanks and sat down too. It was none of her business, Gwen decided resolutely, couple stuff, and worked on focusing back in on the meeting. They had a case to work on after all.

Jack only blew across his steaming mug as he ambled around the table, seeming unhurried, or maybe he was just reluctant. Gwen could understand that, this wasn’t a pretty case, but Jack tended to have more of a rip-off-the-bandage approach to painful topics.

He stopped to stand at the head of the table.

“The body is being delivered for Martha to complete a full autopsy on tomorrow morning. Until then, we won’t have as much information as I would like going into this,” he spoke, voice heavy, he was tired, that much Gwen could tell.

He glanced down at Ianto sitting readily, his right hand. “Ianto, what have you got for us?”

Ianto didn’t respond but gestured for him to sit and, slowly, Jack complied, looking slightly annoyed as if he were doing the man an inconvenient favor and not simply taking his seat.

But Ianto wasn’t paying him attention anymore, instead, he was tapping out something on the laptop. It was the one that stayed in the conference room, they all used it for briefings. He reached around to turn on the projector so they could all see what he was pulling up.

“Last week, there was a report to the police of minor vandalism of the football field just around the corner from where the victim was found. Ms. Habiba was the one who spotted this in the police reports from the area,” Ianto informed them, nodding to the woman appreciatively while she smiled and ducked her head nervously.

“There are no pictures considering the police never bothered to open the case, believing it must be some kid's idea of a joke. But there was a small crater with dirt kicked up around it and it wasn’t empty, it had an unidentified metal object sitting in it, apparently, it looked like an old canister bent out of shape. Where the object is now, we don’t know. But we can contact the coach who reported it and start from there,” he said sensibly. 

If you had to ask who Gwen would want in a crisis, she would say Ianto. Well, actually, she would pick Jack, but right after Jack would be Ianto, because he was always presenting solutions, ways to improve the situation. He had a good head on his shoulders.

“There were no other reports of human victims, in the same area or if you extended the search parameters. But, in a social media post, one of the residents who lives less than half a kilometer from the site of the most recent victim posted about her dog passing away while on the way to the emergency vet. After coming home with _twin snake bites_. That was three days ago.”

“A dog, then a child. Not big enough yet to alert everyone of a pattern, but enough of a tragedy to cause alarm,” Tosh murmured, and glanced up at Jack. “Does animal control know we’re on this one? Wouldn’t want this to get any messier.”

“Good thinking,” Jack nodded, “Lois, be sure to contact them as soon as you can,” he followed up and she nodded, jotting down more short-hand on the notepad in front of her.

“It’s strange though, isn’t it,” Martha spoke up, looking contemplative, “two victims, both bodies whole. Whatever this is, it’s not doing this to eat.”

“It may just be a defense mechanism,” Jack shrugged, “not all snakes can eat a human but they still bite if they feel threatened.”

Martha nodded along but Gwen frowned, finding herself annoyed that they were reasoning out the alien that had killed a child, “it picked a _dog_ and a _child_ , not the most terrifying of targets. I’d imagine we would have seen an adult victim already if all it took was feeling threatened,” she pointed out, crossing her arms.

“Yes,” Jack agreed patiently in the voice that let her know they were about to be subject to one of his lectures on _all things alien_. “But, children and animals are also likely to poke around in places where a scared alien might try to hide,” she pursed her lips, considering this. “But you’re right Gwen, we shouldn’t assume to know what its intentions are, it could be intelligent or it could be the same as any other lost animal, lashing out in fear. We need to work in a way that considers both of these angles.”

“I’ve cross-referenced all the previous cases we had on file and found nothing that quite resembled this,” Ianto agreed gravely, “we can’t really be sure what we’re dealing with.”

They all murmured their assent before Ianto went on, “and that’s not all, on Saturday there’s going to be a children’s football game, held on the field, where the object originally touched down. The creature may be lurking near there in hopes of finding whatever that object was— if it _is_ related.”

“Well, we should have the game canceled then,” Gwen decided instantly.

“That may well cause undue panic,” Toshiko reasoned softly.

“We’ll just come up with some reason, maybe falsify weather reports,” she suggested, it’s not anything they hadn’t done before.

“With one child’s death so fresh in the air, parents may pick up on the lie and consider it a danger to their children,” Tosh pointed out insistently, “If... something happens with children again so _soon_ ,” it had been months since the 456, but something so big couldn’t be brushed aside so easily. “It may spiral into mass panic.”

“Well, maybe they should be worried,” Gwen bit back sharply, her anger mismatched with Tosh’s concerned logic. She was right, Gwen knew, it was a changed world they were in. They had to be more careful with what lies they told. Still, sometimes it frustrated Gwen, the way they spoke. Like they forgot she had a child of her own growing inside her.

She was many months in now, and the bump was noticeable enough she’d had to buy new clothes. She was barred from field duty for the next several months, much to her chagrin. Jack had ordered her and of course, he was right too, it was an undue risk to send her out anywhere, but being cooped up was making her antsy.

“The current pattern of behavior doesn’t suggest anything would happen at the game either,” Tosh tried to reason with her gently, which only served to frustrate Gwen further, damn hormones. But she wasn’t letting this go, not when she knew she was right, this risk was unwarranted.

“There have been no witnesses, so the victims were alone when it happened,” Tosh went on, “evidence suggests that the life-form would want to keep away from any large crowd.”

“So there’s a low risk of any danger at the game,” Jack nodded, then looked to Gwen who had yet to school her face away from the anger she was currently projecting. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll have the local news channel share a bulletin about keeping watch over where children play in case of aggressive wildlife.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “yes, that fixes everything, _Jack_ ,” she responded sharply, “we’ll just put these children’s lives in danger and keep on like everything’s normal!”

Jack didn’t react, other than shuttering his expression from her, but she didn’t miss the way Ianto was scowling down at the table as soon as she said it. Too bad, she wasn’t backing away from this just because it was a touchy subject, they could be doing more to keep these people safe and they simply weren’t.

“Gwen,” Martha, cut in sternly, leaning forward into her vision. Gwen was quick to focus her glare on her, ready to meet any challenge. “We’re aware you’re worried, but canceling one football game isn’t going to keep those kids any safer, not when we won’t even know where they would be if they aren’t there. And there’s a very low—”

Gwen cut her off, feeling stubborn, “if we bothered to warn these people if we _said_ something, we could tell them to keep their children inside, keep them home until we have this sorted!”

“Gwen, we don’t know if people’s homes are safe, we don’t know what this thing is capable of, where it can get, how well it can hide,” Jack spoke up, looking tired now, Ianto was looking at her too now, his scowl was gone but his current expression could be described as _stony,_ at best.

“Well, at least there wouldn’t be children on any corner who could get murdered next!” She shouted, standing sharply now to glare across the table at Jack. He only stared her down, the set to his jaw was the only thing that gave away his silent anger.

“There are variables everywhere that we can’t account for, Gwen,” Jack spoke, grounding the words out and his voice sounded much less even now, less controlled. “We’re dealing with this the best we can without making everyone afraid.”

“It’s _kids_ , Jack,” she hissed out, “but I know that doesn’t make a difference to you,” she shot back sharply, some furious part of her wanting to hit him where it hurt the most.

The room seemed to freeze with the words and Gwen waited for the screaming, for Jack to tell her to get out and clear her head. But, surprisingly, it was Ianto who moved first. He stood so fast his chair hit the wall behind him with a bang.

“Gwen, a word, _now,_ ” he growled the sentence out and she met his glare fiercely, unwilling to back down. She followed wordlessly when he stalked out of the conference room.

“ _You_ do not get to make that judgment about him,” Ianto spoke as soon as the door behind them swung shut, just out of sight around the corner of the hallway. She knew if they raised their voices everyone would be able to hear them still.

“Oh, so he’s the only one who gets to decide when children should be handed over for the ‘greater good’?”

“You could _never_ see the bigger picture,” Ianto hissed at her, looking like he wanted to tear his hair out. “As soon as you make the choices he does,” he went on, words tumbling from him furiously. Ianto only ever spoke so much when he was frustrated or nervous, and it was easy to tell which one was the cause right now. “And you bear the consequences of _all_ of it, _then_ you can decide whatever you like about Jack.”

“You have watched him, _again and again_ , hand over kids because he’s afraid to stand up to the consequences otherwise,” she jabbed a finger towards his chest, “there are kids he could have saved and he chose not to.”

“Because the consequences would be awful,” Ianto was spitting in anger now, “and I don’t know if you noticed, but he _chose_ to save the children of Earth over his own grandson! There is an actual reason for the things he does, Gwen!”

“I’ve tried being patient,” she cut back, brushing aside most of what he’d said as guilt started to twinge at her, the anger was slowly fading and now she was realizing exactly what she had just said to Jack. “But he keeps doing this, he could fight so much harder for them, Ianto. You know he could,” she appealed to him, lowering her voice now.

“To what end, Gwen?” Ianto demanded of her, looking so tired and wrung-out now too, “until the faeries have everyone he’s ever known choking on rose petals? Until the time rift cracks and the world breaks for one little girl? Until ten percent of the kids on earth are hooked up to Alien junkies, but _he_ still gets to watch his grandson grow up? Is that how he should _fight_ , Gwen?” he refused to relent, even as her face twisted up at the mention of it all, “I don’t like it any more than you do, Gwen. But neither does he. And he’s the one who takes responsibility for it, and he’s the one who bears the blame. And I’m not gonna let you keep throwing it in his face,” he warned her, his tone edging into something dangerous now.

She stared up at him, letting out a slow breath, “and the kids in the sixties?” she questioned, “I know you thought he was better than that,” she pointed out. She’d seen them arguing. The warehouse they’d hidden in hadn’t really been built for privacy. At the time, there had been too much going on for her to confront Jack about it, but he and Ianto were almost inseparable, of course they had had the chance to talk.

“He thought it was worth it,” Ianto mumbled, a weak defense.

“Well, he was _wrong_ ,” Gwen countered, voice hard.

“ _Yes_ , he makes mistakes, Gwen. He’s _human_ ,” he insisted, his voice growing desperate in that way she’d only heard him sound on the day they’d discovered Lisa in the basement. “But that was a long time ago, and it’s not either of our places to pass judgment on him for it. We haven’t lived the kind of life he has. We _never_ will, Gwen,” he said resolutely, words filled with grief.

The sorrow hit her like a brick at that. How many times a day did Ianto think everything Jack had done? About how many years he had behind him and how he had an unending number of them ahead?. Did he think about Jack having to go on while watching everything around him fade away? How often did he face the fact that he would die someday and Jack just couldn’t?

“I’m sorry,” she spoke, suddenly regretting it all, and she reached for Ianto, pulling him down by the nape of his neck to hug him tightly.

He let her do it, even as adverse to touch as he could be, he let her hold him and that told her all she needed to know. He was stooping low and pressing his nose into her shoulder. His hands were curled into fists, clutching at the leather of her jacket.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she murmured, knowing apologies didn’t mean anything in the face of this sorrow.

“You can’t treat him like that,” Ianto told her, voice thick now and she knew there were tears where he buried his face into her shoulder. “I don’t want this to be what he remembers about us,” he whispered, heartbreakingly.

She pulled back suddenly, shifting her hands to grab hold of his face, “listen to me, Ianto Jones, what Jack’s going to remember best about you, is how bright and funny and amazing you are, and don’t doubt it for a _second_ ,” she told him, doing her best to give him a warm smile, “and I hope what he remembers about me is how stubborn I am, ok? So, we’re both on the right track, yeah?”

He managed a wet laugh at that, though it came out sounding more like a sob, he nodded to her. There, with his face cradled in her hands, and the shine of tears smeared on his cheeks, and his complexion red from crying, he suddenly looked so _young_. The way he carried himself made it so easy to forget, but before Lois, he had been the youngest of them, only twenty-four when she’d met him. She pulled him back in, and he rested one cheek on the top of her head, her hair sticking to his face where it was wet with tears.

“I’ll apologize to him, properly,” she promised, rubbing one hand up and down his back, feeling every unsteady breath under her hand. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was cruel,” she admitted softly, regret piercing sharply through her chest.

“Not in front of everyone, he doesn’t like us seeing him vulnerable,” Ianto advised her miserably.

She nodded where her face was pressed into his shoulder, “I’ll get him alone,” she assured him.

Ianto pulled away from her after a long moment, reaching up to quickly scrub tears from his face.

“We have to go back in there,” he said softly, and she watched as he schooled his face into something approaching calm.

She nodded and led the way.

A hush went over the conference room again as soon as they entered, she’d heard them talking softly before she’d opened the door, but she had no idea what they’d been saying.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, looking him in the eye as she stood in the doorway, “I shouldn’t have said that,” is all she said at the moment, knowing she needed to have a proper talk with him about it later once she got him alone.

He only nodded to her, his expression kept cool. It was just like that first day Ianto came back when he'd walked into the hub and Jack had all but forgiven him with only a nod. She hadn’t really understood it then, but she thought she might now. 

All Jack had is what was current, for him it was essentially useless to hold grudges when everything kept going and going, no matter what. Jack forgave because he didn’t see the point of doing otherwise, he had to keep his head in the _now_. Because there was too much behind him and no end in sight.

She silently walked back to the chair she had occupied, at the end of the table, opposite Jack, with Tosh on one side and Martha on the other. They watched her, unmoved, she wondered how much they’d heard of her and Ianto’s conversation.

Ianto stepped into the room behind her and took up his place at Jack’s side. He reached for one of the man’s hands where they were folded on the table. Jack let him, but he seemed almost confused as Ianto fit their hands together, unbothered by the fact that people could see them. She knew they didn’t tend to touch each other when other people could see, she tried to not feel heartbroken by that fact.

“We were… just discussing,” Tosh was the first to break the silence, always practical in the face of uncertainty, “Jack is going to watch the football game, observe the area. Intervene if there were to be any… _incidents_ ,” Tosh phrased delicately.

“I’ll go with you,” Ianto decided instantly, voice as calm as ever, as though he hadn’t just been crying in the hallway.

Jack nodded slowly and Gwen didn’t miss the way his thumb brushed over his knuckle.

“Right then, that’s sorted,” Martha spoke seriously, standing as she did with her hands braced on the table, “we all know that we need to be doing so let’s get back to work.”

“What am I meant to be doing?” Gwen asked suddenly, she’d already interviewed the family and didn’t have any other orders pertaining to this case.

Martha just looked at her calmly, completely unflappable, “we thought it best if you take the rest of the day off, Gwen,” she informed her simply. Ianto at Martha’s side said nothing, he only traced the grain of the wooden table with his eyes.

She lowered her head in shame. “Understood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this chapter, I enjoyed writing it, and please dont be super mad at Gwen!! she's as flawed as the rest of them, and part of that is being overly confrontational and idealistic.
> 
> also I'm desperate to just post a ton of chapters at once but im pacing myself because the story isn't done yet and I would probably not ever finish if I don't take it slowly and give myself the time, but I'm so excited to share what I've been writing recently!! in the coming weeks you will see more. right now I'm going for about 2 chpts a week because I cant hold myself back any more than that but I do have most of it written, it's just gonna take time to finish it all, edit it, and then format the chapters correctly, so the updates may become a bit further apart as the story goes on, but we'll see!!!
> 
> but other than that, I have some drabbles that I wrote for this au before I started this. they're not actually explaining the au but exploring Lois's dynamic with the team and I'll probably post those before this is done and put them in a series together in chronological order, probably.


	4. Ianto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The report will still be there in the morning,” Ianto told him firmly once he had his gaze. “Martha will understand that you need to sleep. She _does_ have a medical degree,” Ianto tacked on dryly.

Getting Jack into bed was never as easy as one would expect. It was already 17:00 by the time they’d finished the debriefing and Ianto had cut off his coffee intake since then, only bringing him decaf. Still, hours later, Jack sat stubbornly at his desk, yawning hugely as Ianto watched him from his own station.

“Go to bed,” he commanded simply, knowing Jack would hear him. The man looked up and caught his eye.

“Martha’s still got the report on the tissue samples to show me,” he answered blandly. On a good day, Jack would fire back, challenging who exactly Ianto thought he was to be giving orders to the boss, all with that stupid, wonderful grin. Maybe he would flirt and tell Ianto he would have to try harder than that to get him into bed. Or he would laugh and say, ‘only if you come with me,’ and he would always go if Ianto took him up on it, true to his word.

Ianto stared at him sadly, Jack’s eyes weren’t on him anymore, he was leafing through the reports Lois had brought him to sign before she’d headed home for the day. He rose from his seat, moving to stand in front of Jack’s desk, silently demanding his attention.

Finally, Jack looked up, relenting, he raised a single eyebrow in question.

“The report will still be there in the morning,” Ianto told him firmly once he had his gaze. “Martha will understand that you need to sleep. She _does_ have a medical degree,” Ianto tacked on dryly.

Jack quirked his lips, but it didn’t make him look any happier, “I don’t need that much sleep,” was all he said. He was lying, Ianto knew. It was a partial lie at least. 

Ianto had _watched_ him sleep, in the quiet hours when Jack was in his arms and for once he looked at peace. Those first few days after Jack had returned from his foray with the Doctor, and he’d come in early to find Jack sleeping fitfully in his bunker, just enough light straying in through the hatch to see his features twisting in distress, but still _asleep_.

Jack didn’t need to sleep only in that he didn’t _want_ to sleep, and because he simply _couldn’t_ get worn down. Jack always bounced back, or at least that was what he told them.

They stared one another down for a long moment, Jack broke first, dropping his eyes back to his papers.

“Yet you still need sleep,” Ianto spoke then, countering him.

“Well, I had plenty last night.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jack,” Ianto warned him, his voice unintentionally dipping into the terrifying well of emotion that seemed to always be waiting just under his skin.

Jack looked at him then, _really_ looked, his expression softening, “I’m ok, Ianto, really. It’s just one bad day,” he said with a shrug. One bad day in a million. Like it didn’t matter.

“Come to bed, _please_ , Jack,” Ianto spoke, voice low and insistent and he didn’t plead with Jack often, Ianto refused to beg for anything from anyone, but this was different. And Jack knew it too. He froze.

“Ok,” he said, “ok, ok. We can go to bed,” he agreed and when he stood his hands were shaking and Ianto held them steady with his own.

Ianto had already shot a text to Martha telling her they were off for the night and dropped his phone on the nightstand by the time Jack had undone the first two buttons of his shirt. Wordlessly, Ianto stepped up to him and guided his unsteady hands away, working his way down with careful ministrations.

It was odd, seeing Jack, who’s hands never shook when he held a gun, never shook when he was staunching the blood of a wound, never shook when he moved a body. Jack, whose hands were always steady, no matter if they were fighting or caressing gently across Ianto’s skin. But they _shook_ when he was facing the idea of falling asleep. The idea of laying down and having nothing but his own mind, his thoughts, all his memories to occupy him. That was what scared Jack the most.

It was never so bad if they had sex first, the pleasant soreness and Jack’s sleepy smiles as he drifted asleep with Ianto pillowed on his chest, or Jack’s soft breath slowing on the back of his neck. Or with Jack curled towards him with Ianto’s arm across his waist, with their legs tangled together. Or with Jack folded safely against his chest, so easy to drink him in that way, keep watch over him. Jack slept easier when he was with someone, that was a simple fact.

Ianto wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the fact that it was _him_ who was with Jack, but he knew it had to be someone Jack trusted. And Ianto cherished that trust, whether or not Jack might be dreaming of him when he smiled in his sleep.

Maybe it was odd, he thought, as he helped Jack tug his t-shirt away after the button-up had been discarded, to be so protective of someone like Jack. Someone so much older than him, someone who could never die, someone who could go on forever. But it didn’t matter if any of it was strange or not, Ianto would protect Jack as best he could for as long as he was able, no matter how fragile and temporary he must seem in the expanse of the cosmos.

Ianto kneeled on the floor in front of him, loosening the laces and tugging his boots free, his socks following shortly after. Then Jack was standing to shuck off his trousers and Ianto stepped away to work at his own clothes.

This felt strangely more intimate than when Jack’s hands were all over him, rough with the buttons of his shirt and expertly unbuckling his belt. Then those same hands, almost _reverent_ in exploring his skin. How someone like Jack could continue to find interest in someone like him he wasn’t sure he would ever quite understand. But this— here, removing all their clothes, removing all the barriers, with no intention to do anything besides fall asleep in each other’s arms— felt far more intimidating than the sex ever had. 

Jack shuffled under the covers and curled up facing the wall. Ianto reached for the light before sliding in behind him and pulling him close with an arm curled over his torso. The warmth of his back pressed pleasantly against Ianto’s chest. He slid his ankle between Jack’s legs and hooked the other over his calf, drawing him in closer. He knew Jack liked to be held, he liked contact points all over, to feel someone securely with him. Ianto wrestled one-armed with a pillow until it was adequately squished between his arm and Jack’s head. And when Jack shifted his hand to rest over Ianto’s where it was secured around his waist, his hand wasn’t shaking anymore.

* * *

When Ianto woke, Jack was still in his arms, but he was twitching in his sleep and making small pained noises in the dark.

“Hey,” he breathed against his neck, voice thick from sleep, “Jack, wake up, you’re dreaming.”

When he didn’t wake as requested, Ianto just curled closer around him and called more insistently, “wake up, _Jack._ ”

His breathing stuttered as he came awake, for a moment it was just the sound of him practically _gasping_ for air in the dark of the room. Ianto had a few guesses as to what he might have been dreaming about, but there was so much he would never know.

“Ianto?” he said after a moment, voice rough.

“I’m here,” he answered softly.

Then Jack was turning around to face him, his arms winding around Ianto in return as Jack hooked a leg over Ianto’s and tucked his head into space beneath Ianto’s chin. They didn’t say anything. 

Ianto didn’t know how long it took, he could’ve counted the seconds if he’d wanted to bother, but eventually, Jack fell back asleep, still in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is martha's, let me know what you think!


	5. Martha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ianto’s in the archives and Tosh is working on her program,” he said testily, clearly wanting this to be over with already. Which wasn’t _at all_ how this worked. She lifted her head up properly now to glare at him. If she just tried to ignore him she was sure his presence would only continue to make this difficult, in more ways than one.
> 
> “Jack, if you don’t leave now, I’ll call Ianto up from the archives myself,” she threatened, turning around to jog up the stairs, shooing him away as she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> auugh thank you for the sweet comments on last chapter they really helped motivate me to work on this!! I've been editing several future chapters since then and I've made some corrections to a few plot speed-bumps, and **some** of the medical inaccuracies, though not all of them, as there are almost definitely some in this very chapter.
> 
> I'm sorry Martha, I'm just not smart enough to write you, but I try my best.
> 
> Enjoy!

When Ianto brought her coffee in the morning, he looked more like he might need it himself, as much as he assured her he had his own. Jack at least looked a bit better than yesterday, a healthier warmth to his skin. She suspected Ianto’s state was from a night spent worrying over Jack, but he seemed satisfied with the results of his efforts, at least. 

Toshiko proclaimed that she was making good progress on the program as soon as she sat down at her desk and plugged the USB drive into place.

When Gwen arrived, brighter and earlier than usual, she hurried up to see Jack and they had a talk in his office. It seemed to go ok as she wandered back out the door, shooting one last apologetic smile over her shoulder before she left him.

Everyone seemed to be in good spirits this morning, or at least better than they’d left yesterday, which maybe wasn’t saying all that much. But it was about as well as could be expected after the day they’d had. Of course, there was still the prickle of tension that lingered in the air from yesterday, and it all came crashing down around their ears as soon as the body was delivered. Islands of calm could never last in a life with Torchwood.

Ianto had taken it in the lift down to cold storage, so he could properly mark it for archival purposes before he sent it up in the dolly to the autopsy bay.

She had discussed the report she’d finished last night with Jack this morning, about how the sample she’d taken at the morgue hadn’t come up with any identifiable toxins. A more thorough examination was certainly in order.

And now she stood over the small body on the cold table with Jack standing vigil at the top of the stairs, his knuckles gone white where he was gripping onto the railing.

“You don’t have to watch,” she informed him sharply with a glance in his direction as his heavy stare weighed down on her.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” he responded stiffly.

“Then send Tosh over, or Ianto,” she suggested, not bothering to mention Gwen, knowing there was not a single universe where that would go over well. And to be honest, she was still a bit peeved with the woman after yesterday.

“Ianto’s in the archives and Tosh is working on her program,” he said testily, clearly wanting this to be over with already. Which wasn’t _at all_ how this worked. She lifted her head up properly now to glare at him. If she just tried to ignore him she was sure his presence would only continue to make this difficult, in more ways than one.

“Jack, if you don’t leave now, I’ll call Ianto up from the archives myself,” she threatened, turning around to jog up the stairs, shooing him away as she did.

He looked taken aback as she strode towards him, persistently herding him away from the railing and into the main area of the hub.

“Alright, alright, jeez!” he said, sulking away as she let out a sigh.

“Just let me work in peace, Jack,” she requested more evenly, and he glanced back at her, hands stuffed defensively in his pockets.

He hesitated then, his face full of sorrow, “just— Martha, stop if it’s too much,” he spoke softly and her expression softened too.

“I will, Jack,” she assured him, and finally, he turned away.

It wasn’t pleasant work. It never really was. When she’d decided to be a doctor it had been to work to keep people living, to keep people drawing breath. Not this.

Then again, this work had the same end goal, keep people safe, keep people breathing, healthy and happy. Just in a more roundabout way. But she hadn’t wanted to go back and try to pretend she could be normal, hadn’t really been able to, not after everything that had happened.

That was what Tom had wanted. Tom, her first fiancé, she’d met him under different circumstances than how he’d met her. But she couldn’t be anyone other than who she’d first been with him, the woman who walked the world. And he could never understand that, so, they hadn’t worked, in the end.

Mickey understood. Mickey, who was smart and funny and determined. He hadn’t been there but he understood better than anyone else had. Those things changed you. Sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the better, but you couldn’t go back. 

She still wanted to make a difference, in the best way she knew how. That was the thought she kept in her mind when things seemed gruesome, she was working to help people. Prevent more people from getting hurt.

It was frustrating though when every scan she did turned up negative. Nothing to show for her work. Nothing was registering, she’d even manually examined the tissue samples against a healthy sample from a reluctant Gwen. Still nothing, nothing seemed out of place, no foreign bodies, no signs of tissue degradation that might suggest an acidic substance. Except for the puncture wounds, it looked like there was nothing to kill him at all.

It wasn’t impossible for him to have bled out, sure, those were pretty nasty looking wounds, but he was still alive when they’d got him to the hospital. She checked back through the reports. He'd died after having a seizure, with no prior history of them. That must be a symptom of the toxin, possibly due to a lack of oxygen to the brain, which would match with hemotoxic venom, disrupting the blood flow.

But she still hadn’t found anything within the blood samples to produce that effect and even if she could find a blood clot in the body, it wouldn’t tell her any more than she already knew. The day dragged on, with more tests, and more nothing.

It was Jack that broke the monotony, as seemed to be his specialty. When a mug came clunking down on the desk beside her, with him leaning his hip obstructively against her workspace.

She glanced up at him, scrubbing a hand across her forehead as if that might dispel the building headache.

“I haven’t been able to find a single foreign body within the blood, no signs of toxins, it’s like nothing was ever there.” She’d long since placed the body back into one of the lockers. She'd already found as much as she could currently with the autopsy until she actually knew what she was looking for. Still, she’d run every possible scan or test she could think of and right now she was looking over the data she’d gotten from some of their advanced alien equipment.

“So, it’s something we don’t know how to detect yet,” he said reasonably, then, “drink your coffee,” he advised.

She took a sip and realized it was stronger than Ianto made it.

She looked up at him impishly over the rim of the mug, “I’m surprised Ianto let you touch his coffee maker, after last time.” she teased, referring to the time Jack had ripped apart, or _urgently disassembled,_ as he liked to say, the coffee machine and later suffered the consequences for it.

“He’s not here to stop me,” Jack said simply, “he’s out looking for the object from the football field,” he froze then, “— soccer field?” he tried, glancing down at her, brows furrowed, “everyone thinks I’m American, should I call it ‘ _soccer_ ’?” he repeated, with an amusing emphasis on that American drawl he had.

She managed a smile up at him, “I dunno,” she mused, “if you call it football, people might think you’re talking American football.”

“Why are two different games called the same thing?” he asked, “the sports in this time are stupid,” he decided, crossing his arms petulantly.

She couldn’t help laughing at the expression he was making, and as soon as she did a winning smile broke out across his face.

“There’s that gorgeous smile I’ve missed,” he purred, “and _oh_ , that laugh, more beautiful than the song of a nightingale,” he spoke emphatically, voice kept low.

She couldn’t help giggling like a teenager at that, Jack’s compliments were always a little too genuine, just a bit too much to handle.

“You stop,” she scolded him but she was grinning too much for it to be anything but an encouragement.

“Oh, Martha Jones, when are you going to let me whisk you away from this life of drudgery and make you smile like that every day?” he wondered, leaning in close and still grinning so blindingly bright.

“Where would you take me?” she whispered lightly, smiling full force in return.

“Somewhere you’ve never been, somewhere as special as you,” he spoke.

Her smile wilted a little, “I’ve been everywhere, remember?” she reminded him softly. Everywhere on earth, looking at it all, devastated.

“To the stars with us then,” he decided, his own smile falling now, with something terribly wistful in his voice.

She roused herself upon seeing him like that, unwilling to let them fall into despair together. 

“The stars as bright as your smile,” she exclaimed, grabbing his hands and trying to channel every inch of charm and affection Jack seemed to weave into each compliment he gave them. He laughed loudly at that and let her pull him forward and spun with her until they were dancing a strange tuneless dance in the middle of the autopsy bay.

She was so terribly fond of Jack. There was something about the way they’d met that gave them this marrow-deep bond. Maybe it was being so desperately in love with the same man who would never see them. Maybe it was from being a part of the end of the world club. Maybe it was just that they’d _clicked_. Whatever it was she refused to see him sad when she had the chance to correct it.

“You two seem like you’re having fun?” Ianto’s low voice broke the moment, his tone lifting curiously, silently asking them what the hell they were doing.

Martha felt a bit like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar and grinned sheepishly at Ianto watching them from the top of the stairs like that. But Jack only beamed up at him.

“Ianto!” He called out his name excitedly, as he so often did, his affection was obvious in the joyful sound. “Me and Martha are gonna run off together and you’re coming along!” He declared, throwing an arm out towards him.

Ianto barely reacted, which made it even funnier when he lifted his brows and said, tone perfectly flat, “I’m sure Mickey will love that.”

She broke down into laughter, clutching at Jack to keep her balance. She felt a bit hysterical, but with all the tension that had been choking the air, it was nice to just break down for a little while.

Jack’s arm looped firmly around her shoulder, steadily keeping her upright. “Aw, c’mon,” Jack went on, “who do you think I am?” he demanded playfully. “He’s invited too, the more the merrier!”

The corner of Ianto’s lip was curling now, smiling down at him fondly.

“What’s going on down here?” Toshiko wondered brightly, peeking around Ianto’s shoulder to see her and Jack standing together, grinning like fools.

“We’re hitting the road, Toshiko!” Martha called up to her, grinning.

“Are you planning to buy a van and begin solving mysteries as well?” Ianto wondered dryly.

“Only so long as I get to be Daphne,” Jack said with a delighted tilt to his chin, “she was always the coolest.”

“Velma was my favorite,” Martha added, trying to recall the old episodes she’d seen as a kid.

“Who’s the dog then?” Ianto asked wryly.

“Myfanwy,” Tosh spoke, not even needing to think about it.

Ianto smiled whole-heartedly at that, and Martha laughed some more.

“Hey, where’s Gwen?” Jack wondered suddenly.

“Went out to lunch with Rhys,” Ianto answered instantly. “speaking of, let’s all get out of here and get something to eat.”

“I thought you were gonna grab something on your way back?” Jack spoke sobering now as he looked at Ianto in confusion at the change of plans.

“Seeing as I got back early, I thought we could go out somewhere,” he said with a shrug and a passive look.

“So you found something then,” Jack spoke, pulling away from Martha’s side to step towards the stairs. Not missing a beat, ”that’s why you came back early,” he pointed out.

Ianto looked a bit pained at those words like he'd thought being evasive might get Jack off his case. Maybe it had in the past, maybe something had changed.

“Let’s look at it once Gwen is back,” he suggested reasonably, “that way we’ll all be here and we can get lunch first.” Jack’s expression had grown hard now, clearly ready to start using what Martha liked to call the 'Captain voice’. Then, Ianto added, “we can invite Lois.”

Jack hesitated then and Martha knew Ianto had him. She could see the temptation for what it was, take the newbie out in a non-work outing, Jack wanted to get to know her because he liked being friends with all his employees. Martha also wanted to know her, she wanted to go out just as much as he did, but she didn't need to voice her agreement to know they were going. Even if Jack knew Ianto was playing him like a fiddle there was still no way Jack would say no to the idea he'd presented.

Jack heaved a sigh, “alright, we go out and _then_ , we have a look at what you found. And I mean as soon as we get back, Ianto. Gwen or no Gwen,” he spoke, looking a little silly as he pointed a stern finger at the man looking down at him from atop the stairs.

Ianto nodded his assent, “of course,” he said like it was never in doubt. Martha couldn’t help herself but smirk at him. Oh, she did like Ianto quite a lot too, of course she did. Jack had always had good taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, next chapter is Ianto's POV..... again. Oops!! I didn't realize at the beginning just how much of this story was heavily focused on him until I was editing through all these chapters. In the beginning, it's his perspective almost every other chapter. I unintentionally made this fic very Ianto-centric, sorry about that! I just love him.
> 
> i also just realized I should probably link my Tumblr (edit: i changed my url so im changing the link) [@autistic-ianto](https://autistic-ianto.tumblr.com/) I've been posting about torchwood quite a lot on there and sometimes I post my art! I've drawn two janto drawings so far. i need some people who like torchwood to interact with so check out my blog if you like!


	6. Ianto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Any recommendations?” She asked, smiling slightly, hopeful.
> 
> He gave her a small smile in return. That was how he began pointing out the places he liked as they walked, and explaining the history behind random buildings, and all other sorts of nonsense that usually Jack was the only one to ever talk about with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isnt a joke chapter i just happened to post it on April first. sorry I didn't post it yesterday, I just haven't been sleeping well and have been trying to get myself in order these past few days.

Insisting on lunch had been a spur of the moment idea. He’d come back to the hub intending to head down to the autopsy lab and ask Martha about her progress, before heading upstairs to break the news to Jack. But they had looked so happy, inexplicably dancing together and grinning up at him. And Tosh had been at his side, joking along with them and he couldn’t bear to ruin that so abruptly.

It was an Orinthian vessel. Or more specifically, a Scauhthro faction warship. He recognized the insignia from the archives, old case reports he’d looked through in hopes of finding some connection to this one. The last time they’d encountered one at Torchwood there’d been a double-digit body count in its wake.

It was odd though, this creature clearly wasn’t an Orinthi kind, they were much larger and they’d never been purported to have fangs or stingers of any kind. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this one time his eidetic memory had failed him.

If he avoided telling Jack for a while longer, maybe he could keep telling himself that was true.

He stayed near the back, keeping watch over each member of his team, making sure none of them stumbled or fell behind. It was an odd protective instinct he’d always had, despite being the youngest sibling. He’d always stayed in the back. Not necessarily out of deference, but to watch Rhiannon’s feet and make sure she never tripped. Lois was the only one far enough back to walk next to him, twisting her hands together as she went.

Ianto suspected her decision to walk in the back _was_ out of deference. He’d told her to call him ‘Ianto’ a few weeks ago, after another of her occasional visits to the archives when she needed to file a report away.

After being referred to as ‘Mr. Jones’ for _weeks_ , he was starting to understand why Jack loathed being called ‘sir’. She still slipped up sometimes, but at least she seemed more relaxed around him.

The others chatted amicably where they walked ahead of them. Chatter never really was his thing. He preferred the occasional witty interjection, or dead-pan joke, or sarcastic comment, or banter, or even intense conversation. He’d never been good at the supposedly easy, light-hearted stuff. Which was exactly why he _also_ started getting twitchy as he walked beside an uncomfortable Lois. Thinking that he really ought to say something, but he had no idea what.

It was Lois who spoke first, in the end, “I hear you know which places are good,” she said slowly, glancing at him as they walked. She raised a hand, gesturing vaguely, “around here?” her voice pitching in question.

He felt like a ton had been lifted from his chest, no longer having to come up with a conversation topic. He met her eye, nodding slightly, “I try to keep up with that sort of thing,” he answered awkwardly and mentally sighed at how out of his depth he felt.

“Any recommendations?” She asked, smiling slightly, hopeful.

He gave her a small smile in return. That was how he began pointing out the places he liked as they walked, and explaining the history behind random buildings, and all other sorts of nonsense that usually Jack was the only one to ever talk about with him.

But Lois would prompt him about the background of passing buildings that were obviously historic. And she told him she liked sushi so he recommended a nice upscale place across town and the affordable little shop down the street that he ordered from when Jack got the odd craving for it. And it was… nice.

At some point Jack had slowed enough to walk at the back beside Ianto, falling into step with them seamlessly.

“You tell her about that place that has the best cheesecake?” He interjected when the conversation lulled just enough for him to wedge himself in.

Ianto gave him a withering look, “you mean the one we’re banned from?” Ianto asked flatly, not quite having forgiven Jack for that incident yet.

“Well, she isn’t banned, is she?” He asked cheekily.

“Why are you banned?” Lois wondered curiously, and it was exactly the opening Jack was waiting for as his grin widened impossibly.

That was how he ended up telling the ridiculous story, with just as much gravity as everything else he did. Hands moving with gusto as he recounted the tale, and Ianto interrupted with scathing sarcasm every now and then.

“So then, after I’ve already turned over the table, we’re all desperately trying to find the artifact—”

“It was Jack’s fault she dropped it, by the way, don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

“There was swing playing! I had to dance with Tosh!” He protested, grinning too much to earn him any sympathy. Then he focused back on Lois who looked like she was taking in the story intently. Jack did have that effect on people, the gravity of him drawing them all in.

“Anyway, _turns out_ the device fell right into the hands of a toddler sitting at the table behind us.”

“Yes, right next to the sippy cup and the spilled Cheerios,” Ianto agreed sharply.

Jack spared him a grin as he continued, “this two-year-old child then proceeds to unlock a function none of the five of us fully capable adults had discovered and,” he snapped for emphasis, “the tablecloth combusts.”

“Just.. on fire?” Lois asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Ianto confirmed, drawing the word out to demonstrate his long-suffering.

"Yes!" Jack exclaimed excitedly at exactly the same time, with humor dancing in his eyes.

Ianto gave a begrudging smile then as Lois laughed in disbelief, he started to recall the story himself.

“Didn’t you try to grab it from the kid, after which you didn’t have eyebrows for a month?” Ianto asked, smirking quietly at the memory.

Jack seemed to relish in the story, no matter how ridiculous it made him out to be, “ _yes_ , and I had to wear Owen’s big hangover sunglasses everywhere so people wouldn’t stare!” he complained but was still smiling so brightly.

“And Owen ended up singing a lullaby to the kid in front of the entire restaurant after he snatched it from her hands.”

Jack laughed in delight and scrunched his nose up as he smiled at Ianto, “you tell stories all wrong, do you know that?” The question was a bit insulting but the blow was softened by that look on his face being directed at Ianto.

“How so?” Ianto asked him, challenging.

Jack just shook his head, still smiling fondly at him, “you go right to the end and brush past all the fun parts.”

“I’ll leave the storytelling to you then, shall I?” he suggested blandly, focusing ahead of them once more.

“You just need to learn how to appreciate a good story, Ianto, _middle parts and all_.”

* * *

Lunch was nice, Martha and Jack got along famously, as always, and when Jack got going it was impossible to stop him. Tosh joined in on their conversation every now and again, but it seemed she and Lois were holding their own conversation about the move to Cardiff and if she’d had a chance to tour the bay area yet. Ianto sat quietly and observed them, mostly keeping to himself. It was what he tended towards.

When he stood to go pay, Jack caught his arm.

“I’ll call Gwen,” he said, “see where she’s at. We can head back when she’s on her way.” There was unspoken forgiveness in the words. Jack understood why Ianto had wanted to extend this moment, this feeling, just for an hour, a minute, a few seconds longer.

Ianto smiled down at him warmly. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god the next chapter is Jack's perspective!!! maybe some more chapters will be Jack after this one??? who knows!!!
> 
> check out my tumblr [@autistic-ianto](https://autistic-ianto.tumblr.com/) for some more torchwood stuff and also just whatever I post abt


	7. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not picking up anything unusual,” Jack told him, looking down at the screen that only showed the expected human life-readings in his vicinity.
> 
> “It may have been a malfunction, then,” Ianto said slowly but Jack could tell he didn’t really believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! ive decided on moving to sparser updates, because I have still have been working on furthering what I have written and I don't want to post too much before I have more to back it up. We're probably looking at weekly but my schedule is not exactly rock-solid at the moment so it may vary.

Ianto set the container down on the conference table with a heavy clunk. Jack waited for him to open it, his arms folded tensely across his chest. 

Whatever the man had been so reluctant to show them, it couldn't be anything good. Practiced fingers flicked open the latches and he flipped the lid open. Jack swallowed thickly as he looked down at the battered metal object in front of him.

He didn’t even need to speak, Ianto began explaining it to the team.

“It’s Orinthi make,” he started calmly, “You can tell by the insignia here, it’s from one of the Scauhthro faction’s warships,” he finished gravely. Of course, Ianto knew, Jack thought despairingly, of course, Ianto had already realized what this meant.

He unfolded his arms, letting out a slow breath through his nose and put his hand on Ianto’s shoulder. He needed to ground him, Ianto really shouldn’t bear this knowledge alone.

“Orinthi, what are they?” Martha asked, never missing a beat. The others were all still mesmerized by the piece of technology gleaming menacingly in the open box.

“They’re not all like this,” Jack was quick to answer her. He didn’t want Ianto to start the team’s education on a new species with only the reports he must have read in the archives. Sadly, that was often the only side of the universe Torchwood seemed to receive. “Their culture is one of innovation and experimentation and they’ve made some of the greatest technological wonders in the universe,” Jack told them emphatically, desperate to make them understand.

“But as with all species, individual morality is not so universal,” Ianto added mildly, and Jack glanced at him, brow furrowed in concern. 

He was right, of course, Ianto seemed to get it better than any other person. He was so bright and brilliant and it was so heartbreaking to see that knowledge come to head each and every time. Because Ianto understood these heartbreaking truths that every other person Jack had known preferred to skim over.

“Yes,” he agreed thickly, “the Scauhthro faction innovated in every way that was widely frowned upon. They created the cruelest weapons you could imagine, did… awful experiments on living creatures, they were striving towards foolproof methods of mind control when the fighting broke out.”

Jack rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, willing the tension already building to dissipate, “In my time,” he spoke, “the war was already over, just a piece of history, something to learn from. But, here, things fall through the rift from any era and leave devastation in their wake.”

“So this thing we’re dealing with, it’s a weapon?” Gwen asked, looking concerned.

Jack lifted one shoulder, “more or less,” he answered voice catching in his throat in a way he hoped none of them noticed. “Based on this faction’s M.O. it’s more than likely a creature that’s been genetically altered and bred for one purpose.”

“What purpose?” Toshiko asked coolly, he suspected from the way she was looking at the object that she already knew.

“To kill.”

The silence was heavy over the room and Jack sat down in front of the transport, steepling his fingers, it looked like a small pod and was probably meant to be launched towards enemy populations. It may even have been _intended_ for targeting civilians specifically.

“All our current information is still relevant, this is, after all, essentially just an aggressive animal. But there’s no saving it,” he said with a shake of his head, “it’s too dangerous. When we find it, we’re going to have to put it down, but it’s going to be tough, whatever it is, it’s built to be lethal and very hard to kill.”

“Is that why I haven’t been able to detect any toxins?” Martha wondered, “because they created it to kill using some other method?”

“Possibly, or they bioengineered whatever it is to be nearly untraceable,” he told her reluctantly, unfortunately, this was way above 21st century Earth’s paygrade, this science was much more advanced. “Right now, we still take the same precautions as with any venomous creature, because these fangs are obviously its method of introducing the lethal agent,” Jack spoke, mulling the possibilities over. He caught Martha’s eye, “have you checked for any trace radiation in the victim?” he asked.

She shook her head, “I will.”

“I can give everyone a brush up on proper procedure in case of a snake bite,” Ianto offered and Jack looked at him curiously, letting the question show in his eyes. Ianto returned the look evenly, “I’ve been researching for this case,” he answered simply.

Jack nodded absently, of course, that’s why he knew. Always so prepared, his Ianto.

“I’m almost done with my programming, I could take a look at this capsule. See if there’s anything to be found with it,” Toshiko spoke, reaching a hand towards the object hesitantly before shooting a look to Jack, asking permission. He didn’t stop her and she brushed her hand against the dented metal.

“I’ll help you with that,” Jack agreed as Tosh leaned in for a better look at the lettering inscribed on the hull.

“If we’ve encountered this species before,” Lois spoke up, not looking directly at anyone, her eyes not having strayed from studying the alien object, “would there relevant information to be found in the archive?”

“The files I read through only happened to be in the same area,” Ianto answered thoughtfully, “I wasn’t specifically looking for Orinithian encounters.”

“It’s worth looking into, then,” Jack spoke, nodding to her appreciatively.

“Lois, you can head down to the archives while I complete my briefing for first aid to snake bites. Once I’m done I’ll join you to help you look,” Ianto informed her and she nodded before jotting a few more things down on her notepad.

“Gwen, I want you keeping an eye out for any further incidents, and monitor the rift in the meantime.”

“Will do, Jack.”

He looked at all of them, his team was capable, they would find a way to stop this before it got any worse. “Ok, people, let’s break,” Jack ordered, pushing himself up to stand and watching as they all moved, working around each other like fine-tuned pieces of machinery.

* * *

“ _What_ are you wearing?” Ianto murmured beside him as they walked towards the field and Jack smirked, knowing Ianto had been burning to ask that question since he’d laid eyes on him. Impressively, he’d managed to stay silent all the way from the hub, the drive here, and while Gwen gave them their last briefing through their earpieces.

“Polo shirt and khakis, why?” Jack responded, overly innocent.

“So, _dad-chic_ , then?” Ianto raised his brows sharply, his tone biting.

“Hey, I’m trying to blend in,” Jack countered, mock-offended but not bothering to hide his grin, “what do you have to say for yourself? Who wears a suit to a kid’s football game?” he demanded in return.

Ianto glanced down at himself, “I wear this to work, I’m coming here from work, it tracks,” he reasoned easily, clearly having already thought this through.

“At least loosen the tie,” Jack advised him, with a fond roll of his eyes.

Ianto gave him a deadpan stare as he very deliberately tugged his necktie down and opened the top button of his dress shirt. Jack gave him his best smile.

“Much improved,” Jack told him teasingly.

“Yes, well, I don’t think anything could improve upon your outfit,” Ianto told him flatly and Jack knew it wasn’t a compliment, especially when he added in a low mutter, “save for seeing the inside of the incinerator.”

“I heard that, and If you want to get me out of my clothes so bad, Ianto, there’s easier ways to go about it,” he joked, grinning sharply and leaning in just enough that only Ianto would be able to hear him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ianto answered mildly, and Jack shot him one last grin before jogging up the bleachers to take a seat near the top and keep careful watch over that half of the field. He watched Ianto keep walking until he’d reached the other end of the bleachers and mounted the steps quickly to begin his own vigil.

The plan was fairly simple. Despite Martha’s work coming up with more and more negative results, what he and Tosh had found about the device was enough to give them a jumping-off point. It had a short-range sensor for life forms and would direct the pod to uncloak only when it sensed nothing nearby, to make sure the creature didn’t get caught after landing. Tosh and Martha were driving around the neighborhood pinging the scanner in search of alien lifeforms. Their own sensors may not be able to register whatever this was, but hopefully, the technology from the same time could.

Unfortunately, Martha hadn’t been able to find anything more about the cause of death, some things couldn't be helped, but they had enough to work with, and Jack knew they needed to move fast. When they got a solid reading, they would converge on the signal, but until then, Jack and Ianto would keep watch over the game and make sure there were no signs of anything strange here.

“In position,” Jack said, tapping one finger to his earpiece.

“We’ve been circling around the area of the field, but I’m picking up nothing so far,” Tosh responded, highly focused as she worked.

“Well, move further out, we’re keeping watch here,” Jack ordered, leaning an arm on his knee as he only half-watched the game and kept his senses pricked for anything out of the ordinary.

It was just after half-time that Ianto opened his coms and spoke, “Jack… I’m picking something up on my sensor.”

“What is it?” he asked instantly, brows furrowing as he slipped his own hand-held sensor out of his pocket.

“I’m… not sure.”

“Well, I'm not picking up anything unusual,” Jack told him, looking down at the screen that only showed the expected human life-readings in his vicinity.

“It may have been a malfunction, then,” Ianto said slowly but Jack could tell he didn’t really believe that. “It seemed to be coming from behind the seats. I’m going to check back there.”

“Ianto!” Jack bit out his name in warning.

“I won’t engage anything, Jack, I just want to see if I can get it to register again,” Ianto responded, he always made everything sound so reasonable.

Jack didn’t like this, he glanced back at the screen of his own sensor, still nothing. He wasn’t sure if he should be comforted by that or not. “fine,” he gritted out the word reluctantly, “but be careful,” he warned seriously.

“I will, Jack,” Ianto assured him and Jack almost thought, ‘this _won’t_ end in disaster.’ But his stomach was still sinking as he watched Ianto swing himself down over the side of the bleachers and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so, sorry if bleachers arent a thing in the UK? I had a very specific vision in my mind so I used them. they're like tiered seating you would have for watching sports, they look kinda like a really wide stair-case but theyre seats so there are bigger gaps between them and they have actual stairs intercutting the seats. Since this is a kids game, think like shitty metal ones for like a few hundred ppl or w/e that are just on one side of the field.
> 
> listen, I tried my very best with the British English and what not, you don't know how many times I've had to replace the word elevator while writing this story so you have to give me bleachers. I did only let myself have Jack call them that if that comforts anyone bc the word 'bleachers' is def an American term (I _really_ tried researching it) even if the concept of them exists over there and they just get called 'seats' I guess??? its a specific thing tho.
> 
> thank you for sticking with me in this story, next chapter is Ianto again, haha, sorry I can't control my muse!


	8. Ianto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s still nothing,” Jack hissed back.
> 
> “Adjust the frequency by three degrees,” Ianto advised him, staring down at the small screen. It was still only registering the two of them.
> 
> Jack did as he was told and static bloomed on the screen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls note the story warnings for this chapter, it's pretty canon-typical blood/violence sort of thing.

There was no grass underneath the seats, the dirt crunched beneath his dress shoes as he approached the area that had registered, his sensor still held aloft. Slats of sunlight that broke through the rows of seats were disturbed by shadows of the families sitting above him. He kept low as he moved. The area where bushes were grown in a line up behind the seating area wasn’t registering anything either, he’d hoped maybe the creature had taken refuge there.

Nothing. He adjusted the parameters of the scan and frowned as the device buzzed with static. Strange. He took another step and this time the unknown life-sign he’d detected flared up again on screen, and it was right on top of him.

He barely had time to react as he lifted his arm to fend off the attack, it was as if the creature had just materialized into existence right in front of him, two tentacle-like extensions lunged forward, two curved stingers on each one and they darted towards him and plunged into his arm. It hurt like hell, but he only grunted at the sensation and dropped the scanner to reach for the pistol in the waistband of his trousers. He flicked the safety off with his thumb and after the first gunshot rang out, there was only dead silence above him, as if everyone was trying to confirm what they just heard. With the next two pulls of the trigger, a pair of resounding _bangs_ , the crowd above him got the hint and started to scream. The aluminum seats rattling and creaking above him as they all rushed to get away. They’d been trying to keep from causing panic, but seeing as the creature actually _was_ here it was best to get everyone out, and a gunshot was as good a warning as any, a quick and unquestionable one. Plus, he was writing their cover story already, instead of an alien threat, all it had to be was one man with a gun. Just so long as nobody else got hurt.

“Ianto!” Jack was screaming for him, but Ianto couldn’t look at him, the alien was swimming in and out of his vision and he was afraid that if he tore his eyes away for a second it would be gone. Some type of camouflage then.

He shot again, and the bullet seemed to graze it, but it was hard to tell what was part of it and what wasn’t.

“Ianto!” Jack called again before shoving him backward and out of the way. When Ianto looked back to the same spot he couldn't see it anymore.

“It was right there,” he warned harshly, watching over Jack's shoulder as he took the gun from Ianto’s hand and manhandled him until he was sitting on the ground several feet from where he’d been standing.

“Jack, it has some sort of camouflage we don’t know where it is,” Ianto hissed toward him urgently.

Jack gave him a furious look. “If I don’t do something about this, Ianto, you’re going to die!” Jack yelled at him, sounding livid and looking so very afraid. Ianto remembered the pain in his arm as soon as Jack tugged his wrist forward and ripped away his jacket sleeve in one sharp motion that jolted his arm painfully, but Ianto knew Jack needed to see the wounds. He did the same with Ianto’s dress shirt, ripping the fabric away efficiently and Ianto bit down on the pained noise that tried to wheeze from his throat. He slowed his breathing and recalled the information he’d gathered on snake bites since they’d begun this case. He needed to focus on keeping his heart rate down to lower the chances of the venom spreading with his blood flow. It may be a bit late for that, he mused, knowing it was the adrenaline that had been keeping him from feeling the worst of the pain.

“Martha we need you here now!” Jack shouted into his com frantically as he pulled the ruined fabric of his sleeve taut around Ianto’s arm and tugged the knot secure with a sharp jerk of his hands. He was cutting off the blood flow, normally that would be inadvisable considering it upped the risk of a potential need for amputation, but in this case, if it kept him alive, Ianto wouldn’t mind that possibility. Ianto needed to keep his arm below the line of his heart and they should flush the wound as soon as possible—

He lost his train of thought as Jack turned his arm over and sealed his lips to the wound on the inside of his arm. Ianto startled as he started sucking and tried to yank his arm away on instinct, it _hurt_. But Jack’s grip on his wrist didn’t relent, just firmly held him in place.

“Jack, _stop_ ,” he told him seriously as soon as he regained his senses, he gripped his free hand to Jack’s shoulder and shoved him off. Blood and saliva were dribbling down his chin as soon as his mouth got displaced. “Jack,” he warned him fiercely as Jack spit blood on the dirt. “If you have any kind of sore in your mouth, you’ll get venom—”

But Jack only looked at him wild-eyed and _grinned_ with Ianto’s blood coloring his teeth, ”I can’t die, remember?” he reminded him triumphantly. It was the first time he ever sounded truly happy about it and dove back to pull the blood and potential toxins from the other pair of puncture wounds in the meat of Ianto’s palm.

Ianto let him, feeling sick to his stomach as he watched Jack release him and spit out more of his blood only to keep going.

“Jack, give me your sensor,” Ianto spoke after a moment and that was enough to give him pause, he stopped to survey Ianto’s arm now, the wounds sluggishly oozing blood now, and let him go.

He tucked Ianto’s arm against his chest, “keep that right there for me,” Jack requested, below the line of his heart. He leaned back on his haunches to reach for Ianto’s other arm and looped it around his shoulder.

“The scanner, Jack,” Ianto demanded as Jack began pulling him to stand. “We _need_ to know where it is.”

“I’m getting you out of here, first,” Jack told him resolutely, but Ianto yanked his arm away from him before he could move, momentarily sending himself off balance.

“It could be right on top of us, Jack, and we wouldn’t know,” he warned him in a harsh whisper. And finally, /finally/, Jack shoved the gun in the waistband of his ugly khakis and pulled the hand-held scanner out of his pocket.

“There’s still nothing,” Jack hissed back. Ianto couldn’t feel his fingers anymore and his whole arm was tingling.

“Adjust the frequency by three degrees,” Ianto advised him, staring down at the small screen. It was still only registering the two of them.

Jack did as he was told and static bloomed on the screen again.

Ianto froze at that, “I got the static just before,” he told Jack, carefully keeping his voice low now, “it’s very close,” Ianto warned, keeping perfectly still. Jack, however, did not do that. Instead, he pushed Ianto behind him and stood between him and the spot Ianto had been shooting at, and not a second later, it was appearing again and striking at him. Ianto got a good look at now since this time he was expecting it.

It was webbed together, with strips of flesh stretched in careful array. The way it moved was almost hypnotic, like an octopus propelling itself expertly underwater. The tentacle-like limbs and the main body of it strung together with muscle curling and springing out at it sent its stingers toward Jack.

They sank sickeningly into his chest and Ianto knew Jack’s only goal was to protect him, his stomach twisted in disgust.

He reached his right arm, the one still functional, to grab the gun at Jack’s back. He could see where he’d grazed it and when he pulled the trigger this time he hit closer to home. A pale yellow liquid spilled from the wound as the bullet landed in the base of one of the tentacles and that was enough to send it running, he watched it slink away before it escaped his senses once more.

Then all his attention was on Jack, who was taking shallow, painful-sounding breaths and started to sag back against Ianto.

He hooked his good arm beneath Jack’s shoulder and lowered him to the ground, trying not to jostle him too much as he went.

“Jack,” He said, leaning him back so his head was resting on Ianto’s knees. He stared down at the blood blooming in pairs across the bright blue fabric of Jack’s shirt and this, Ianto thought, was where the stingers were intended to hit to cause maximum damage.

Faintly, he could hear Tosh calling for him through his earpiece and he wondered how long that had been happening before he had noticed.

“I’m here,” he spoke once he’d pressed a finger to op in open coms.

“We’re almost at the football field, ETA: one minute. Did you find the creature?”

“Yes,” Ianto answered heavily, “we weren’t able to down it, but it is wounded. It’s escaped for now.”

“Are you hurt, Ianto?” Martha was speaking in his ear next.

He blinked down at his arm, he couldn’t feel it anymore, except for a bone-deep ache. “Yes. So is Jack, please hurry. We’re under the seats.”

He said it like Jack wouldn’t fade away and gasp back to life like he always did, but it was so hard for Ianto to see him like this. To see him gasping for breath, or choking on blood, or bleeding out on the floor. He hated it so much. He hated even more that they never do much of anything to make it better. He brushed his fingers through Jack’s hair and waited impatiently for this to be over with.

* * *

Martha was initially focused solely on his arm when they came sprinting towards them. She instantly cut away the fabric restricting his blood flow and agonizing pain shot through his arm as feeling returned to the limb.

She cleaned the wounds thoroughly, he tried to ignore the jolt of pain that came with each movement but couldn’t help the strained noises that escaped him. Finally, she wrapped his entire arm securely, until he could barely move it.

Jack was still taking uneven, excruciating breaths on the ground.

“It may take a while,” Martha said solemnly, the last part of the sentence went unspoken. It may take a while _before it kills him_.

“I’ll go get the fold-out stretcher to carry him back on, Tosh, finish taking the samples,” she spoke. Toshiko didn’t even look up from where she was studiously collecting samples of the substance Ianto had pointed out to be the alien’s blood. She only hummed in distant acknowledgment and then Martha was standing and touching a gentle hand to Ianto’s shoulder as she stepped past him.

Ianto’s throat had closed up as he stared down at Jack, who's eyes were focused on him again.

“Hey, there,” the man spoke, his voice weak. His head was still cradled on Ianto’s knees.

“Don’t speak, it hurts you,” Ianto advised softly, brushing his fingers across the hair at Jack’s temple.

Jack smiled up at him, though it was more of a grimace, and his teeth were still stained pink. “Everything hurts, so I figure this can’t do much more harm.”

“What do you think of,” Ianto started, hesitantly, since it seemed Jack would rather talk than not, though, Ianto wasn't really sure what Jack wanted him to say. “What do you think of when this happens?”

Jack seemed to be considering the question for a moment before he exclaimed, “ _ah, shit_ — ugh!” With that, he lolled his head to the side, squeezed his eyes shut and stuck his tongue out in a ridiculous pantomime of death. Then he opened them to stare at Ianto once more as he tried to smile while taking another painful sounding breath.

Ianto smiled down at him mournfully, not intending for the way tears welled up in his eyes, “I mean when you have time to think,” he clarified gently, “like now.”

Jack blinked up at him, blue eyes still shining brightly, even while he was dying, “I think about you,” he said simply at first and Ianto felt his breath leave him at Jack’s admission.

But Jack was lifting a hand to make a weak gesture to the air around them, “about the… people I love.”

Ianto nodded then, swallowing thickly, he must’ve meant the general you. The people in his life. That was who he thought about.

“I think about who I’m coming back for,” he added finally, “So you better be here, when I’m back, okay?”

“I will be,” Ianto promised, even when he wasn’t sure he could keep it.

* * *

Jack cried out distressingly as Tosh and Martha worked to shuffle him onto the stretcher, Toshiko whispering apologies to him as they went. With the injured arm, he could only watch uselessly as Tosh and Martha strained to lift the stretcher bearing Jack and started carrying him towards the SUV.

Ianto insisted on being in the back with Jack while Martha drove and Toshiko rode in the passenger seat. The intense burning waves of pain started rolling through his arm as they drove, but he didn't bother mentioning it, there was nothing more Martha could do until they were back at base anyway. 

Jack seemed out of it, his eyes glazed over and body twitching now and then. Martha had warned him he might start seizing so he was already rolled onto his side, with a folded blanket to cushion his head, when he started convulsing. His jaw snapped shut and his spine went completely stiff as Ianto reluctantly leaned away and gave him space while his limbs jerked unnaturally.

He clicked on his stopwatch and timed it just as Martha had told him.

It felt disturbingly familiar, watching Jack’s eyes open, unseeing, with his breathing choking and weak. Ianto would always stay by their side, no matter if it wasn’t pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think!! things are about to get messy back at the hub... but next chapter is martha's pov!! I'm realizing there are also a fair amount of Martha chapters in this as well as Ianto. So, take that however you like.
> 
> Also, I PROMISE that tosh & Ianto tag will come to fruition, I just tagged all the relationships that would be in this story with everything I had written so far when I started posting, so that's why it's taken a bit.
> 
> Also also, I'm beginning to realize this fic will be more than 25 chapters....... this story just keeps getting out of my control :/ so strap in for what will likely be 30+ chapters. woof.


	9. Martha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tosh, can you get me a syringe and some of the compound h-14, I want to at least ease the pain,” Martha spoke as she kneeled beside him, and Toshiko nodded quickly as she darted off. Ianto looked grateful as he glanced up at Martha with those words, she gave him a weak smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while I was editing grammarly let me know that the tone of this chapter was anxious and informative so take that as you will

Gwen was waiting for them, with a roll-out gurney, and some of the other medical supplies Martha had requested she meet them with.

He was seizing again by the time they put the stretcher on top of the gurney and Ianto looked awful while his eyes never strayed from Jack. Still, he started his stopwatch dutifully, having told her the first had lasted for a minute and forty-seven seconds. Gwen’s expression, on the other hand, was hardened with determination after Martha had advised them to give Jack space and instead keep watch and be sure he didn’t fall. Martha could respect Gwen’s unshakable will, even in the face of this. She knew Gwen had faith in Jack, that he’d always come back alright.

“A minute, fifty-one,” Ianto spoke as soon as Jack was still again.

They went down in the lift to get to the main area of the hub, wheeling the gurney towards the stairs of the autopsy bay before carrying Jack down on the stretcher. They sat him down on the concrete floor so he wouldn’t fall in case he seized again.

“Tosh, can you get me a syringe and some of the compound h-14, I want to at least ease the pain,” Martha spoke as she kneeled beside him, and Toshiko nodded quickly as she darted off. Ianto looked grateful as he glanced up at Martha with those words, she gave him a weak smile. This was hard to watch for any of them, she had to imagine Ianto was having the worst of it though.

“You were bit too?” Gwen asked Ianto now, close to his side, and he nodded absently. “Well, you’re standing at least,” Gwen said, quietly hopeful, as she hooked her arm in Ianto’s and looked down at Jack with a crease in her brow.

Tosh came back with the vial and the clean syringe and Martha pressed the needle into the liquid, drawing out the right amount before getting rid of any air. She turned Jack’s arm over, struggling to position it well enough on her own until Gwen crouched down across from her, reaching out to help, Ianto sat on the ground at Gwen’s side watching them intently. Martha nodded a thank you to her before she tapped the inside of his elbow and leaned in to press the needle into the vein. After a moment, he started spasming again for another miserable nearly-two-minutes before Jack’s body finally went very still, no longer twitching intermittently, and Martha let out a breath. They waited, all of them, for a long draw out moment, waiting for Jack’s chest to expand suddenly as he gasped back to life and remembered how to breathe. It didn’t come.

“It can take a while, sometimes,” Toshiko spoke first, “depending on how much trauma was inflicted during the death, he takes longer to come back, I think,” she said, voicing her theory into the silent air of the room.

“We’ve seen him lie dead for days and still come back,” Gwen pointed out, “he’ll be fine.”

“You kissed him then, didn’t you?” Ianto asked and Gwen looked surprised by the question, but Ianto didn’t wait for her answer. He gently grabbed hold of Jack’s jaw, tilting his head, before folding towards him to press a kiss to Jack’s slack lips.

Martha didn’t quite understand how Jack’s eternal life worked, other than it being the work of the time vortex, but it seemed connection to other people had something to do with his life-force.

Ianto pulled away from him sharply though, as soon as he touched him as if the contact had shocked him.

“He’s still breathing,” Ianto spoke breathlessly, looking ghastly pale as he stared down at Jack’s unmoving face. Sure enough, when Martha focused on it, she could see the line of his back was shifting ever so slightly.

Her eyebrows pinched together and she reached over, pressing two fingers to his pulse-point and sure enough, there was a slow beat against her fingers.

“It’s sluggish, but he’s got a pulse,” she said.

“Is he going to seize again, should I move away?” Ianto spoke uncertainty. He sounded horrified, and Martha felt much the same.

“If he was seizing due to lack of oxygen in his brain because of a blood clot, then no, he shouldn’t have another seizure,” she spoke quickly, “he should be _dead_ ,” she said resolutely, She turned his head and pulled back one of his eyelids, his pupils didn’t shift with the light. He was completely unresponsive.

“Jack?” She called out sharply, “Jack, you with us?” She asked, raising her voice, even knowing he wouldn’t answer. She moved to the end of the stretcher now. “Help me get him onto the examination table,” Martha ordered and Tosh moved to assist her once more as they worked to lift him, Gwen lending a hand too.

They weren’t exactly delicate about it, but she didn’t want to waste time moving him slowly and if what had just happened hadn’t just killed him, this surely wouldn’t. As soon the stretcher hit the table with a soft thud, she was stepping away and reaching for a pair of sterile gloves, tugging them on sharply and turning back to see Tosh had helpfully positioned her equipment closer to the examination table.

She started by cutting his shirt away, revealing the nasty wounds that were still there, so he hadn’t come back to life yet or they would already be healed. She genuinely had no idea what to do here, she hesitated only for a moment before seeing the obvious course of action and began cleaning and treating his wounds as she would do any other patient. By the time the wounds were bandaged, she had a few ideas she could try, adrenaline, maybe the neural stimulator they kept in storage, but she needed to know what was happening first. After drawing blood and beginning a general diagnostic, though she suspected it would only come up empty, she glanced up at the other three, all standing at the foot of the stairs, watching her. She couldn't make these decisions, not on her own.

“Conference room,” she said weakly as she pulled her bloodied gloves off and dropped them in the waste bin, “we need to discuss this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shorter chapter, and the sort-of cliff hanger ^^'' but next chapter is about twice as long so that should be good. It's also Lois's POV next time, which I'm excited for, it's actually one of my fav chapters Ive written!!


	10. Lois

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I—” she started to speak, started to ask a question, but immediately thought better of it and stopped herself.
> 
> Tosh and Gwen looked up at her expectantly though and she silently cursed her lapse in judgment.
> 
> “What is it?” Gwen questioned her gently.
> 
> Lois swallowed, best to just answer, she decided, “I just thought... you said he couldn’t die…?”

Toshiko gave her a grateful look as Lois sat the take-away coffees down on the conference room table.

“Thank you, Lois,” the woman whispered, soft and genuine, as she took her cup. She hadn’t quite known what to expect when Toshiko had called her, asking if she could get them four coffees and one tea from the nice cafe around the corner. Ianto always made them coffee when they were in the hub, so she’d been a bit concerned something had happened to him. Which _had_ turned out to be the case, but not the entire issue.

They’d come in through the SUV entrance and she’d known that the lift was in use, signaling their return inside, but only when she’d walked up to the conference room and saw that Jack was missing had she been clued into the reason for the state everyone was in.

Lois slowly handed them out their drinks, she’d watched Ianto serve all of them their coffee enough times to know who the tea was for, Gwen because she was pregnant.

“Thanks,” Gwen nodded to her, smiling weakly as she wrapped her hands around the warm cup. Lois set a few sugar packets out for her just in case it wasn’t sweet enough. Then she offered the other two their coffee.

“Thank you, Lois,” Ianto spoke without looking at her, his voice too rough. then he took a slow sip of what must have been scalding black coffee without so much as wincing. Lois stared at him for a second, disquieted by the display. Martha just smiled at her thinly, looking worn down as she silently took three little cups of creamer and two sugar packets and began meticulously preparing her coffee.

Lois sat down in her own chair with her cup held between her hands and looked at them all.

“I—” she started to speak, started to ask a question, but immediately thought better of it and stopped herself.

Tosh and Gwen looked up at her expectantly though and she silently cursed her lapse in judgment.

“What is it?” Gwen questioned her gently.

Lois swallowed, best to just answer, she decided, “I just thought... you said he couldn’t die…?” she asked carefully, keeping her voice soft and glancing up to see Gwen was still holding her gaze, looking pained.

“He’s not _dead_ ,” Martha was the one to answer, and she sounded calm for the most part, save for the way her voice broke over the last word. “It’s more like he’s in some sort of coma… I don’t know how to describe it,” she shrugged helplessly, folding her lips together and shaking her head slowly.

Ianto’s right hand curled into a fist where it rested on the table next to his coffee. Lois watched as he was quick to move it underneath the table, out of sight.

“We just need to come up with a plan, that’s all,” Gwen spoke, apparently used to taking charge as she seemed to step into the role without a stutter, “Martha, you said you wanted to talk about this, did you have any ideas?”

Martha was quiet for a long moment as she took a few audible breaths, collecting herself, Lois suspected. Then, she looked up at them, “yes, I had some ideas,” she started, talking evenly, “however, since I’m not currently certain what’s causing this, I’m not sure what effects those treatments might have.”

“So we figure out what’s causing it,” Ianto said, completely resolute and still not looking at any of them.

“I’ve been trying, Ianto,” Martha spoke, a desperate edge to her voice, “So far, whatever’s been injected into that boy, yourself, and Jack. It’s been _completely_ untraceable.”

“Well, we’re not just going to give up on him!” A vein in Ianto’s neck jumped, as he spoke furiously, it was so rare that he raised his voice that Lois jumped at the sound.

“Of course not,” Martha responded instantly, leaning forward and looking appalled he might even think that of her. “I just need you to understand that this will take _time_ ,” she told him carefully.

His shoulders hunched as he seemed to bow further in on himself, tensed like he was ready to snap at any moment.

“Ok, I have a suggestion,” Tosh spoke up seriously, “now, I don’t particularly like this idea, but, It’s the quickest and most sure-fire way to get Jack back,” she said and took a slow breath, “what if we make sure he dies? Give him a lethal injection or something and just let his body reset itself?”

The tension was thick enough to choke on as soon as the words were in the air. Ianto was actually turning to stare at Tosh now and the look in his eyes was _dark_.

“Yes, because that’s _exactly_ what he needs,” he spit the words, sardonic and seething with anger, “let’s all kill Jack again!” He threw his unbandaged hand up and slammed it down on the table to punctuate his sentence. Lois jumped again, tensing up

Toshiko didn’t seem intimidated, she only frowned at him dolefully, “it’s just an idea,” she told him softly.

“Here’s an idea,” Ianto spoke, standing sharply with his voice kept dangerously low, “why don’t we actually treat him like a _person_ for once and try to help him heal?” He demanded sharply.

Gwen also didn’t seem surprised by Ianto’s behavior, unlike Lois who’d never seen him like this. The only time it was even close was when he’d yelled at Gwen just the other day and still, that was nothing compared to this on the scale of expression from him.

In fact, Gwen seemed rather resigned as she looked at Ianto, considering him, “Ianto,” she started keeping her voice gentle like she was speaking to a wounded animal, Lois could only imagine that tone would infuriate the man further, “we all want Jack to be ok, just as much as you do.”

His brows went up and she could see the way he was working his jaw in unspoken rage, “yeah?” he questioned softly, face red now and looking like he was either ready to cry or to punch something, “talk to me when you want to start acting like it.” Then he stalked around the table and shoved the door open, letting it fall shut behind him with a bang.

“Well,” Gwen said, as soon as Ianto’s steps pounding down the stairs had faded away, dropping her head into her hand, “that went over about as well as a lead balloon.”

Martha let out a small sigh, “he’s afraid, he’s in pain, and he was the one who watched it all happen. He's probably lashing out because he wants someone to blame other than himself. I think that was maybe the best we could have hoped for.” Then, she took a few long swallows of her coffee.

“One of us should probably go talk to him,” Tosh muttered, sounding reluctant to follow through with the idea.

“Maybe we should just give him some time,” Martha mused, taking another slow sip and looking exhausted.

Lois surprised herself then, by standing up. All three of them jerked their heads over to her at the scrape of her chair.

“He… left his coffee behind,” she pointed out awkwardly, “I’ll bring it to him,” she offered, feeling entirely out of her depth.

They all blinked at her in shock, Gwen was the one who smiled at her kindly, “I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

* * *

The sound of her boots on the metal steps echoed too loudly for comfort in the cavernous hub. It felt so wrong to witness it being so still, with no Toshiko typing away at her computers and muttering to herself and her machines. No Gwen humming some off-tune song as she worked. No sound of Martha’s tools clinking, metal against metal, as she sterilized them thoroughly. Or even the rumble of the coffee maker early in the morning when no one else was in, and Ianto would look up and offer her a small smile if she came down early. No sound of their captain’s commanding voice and his too-loud laugh echoing around the space.

She glanced around for a sign of Ianto, she supposed he could have just left, though she hadn’t heard the door alarm, or maybe he went down to the archives, maybe he wanted to clear his head. 

She wasn’t exactly surprised, though, when she saw his dark hair poking into view as she stepped closer to the autopsy bay. He was standing on the lower level, next to the still form of Jack Harkness.

He hadn’t looked up to acknowledge her, though she was certain he’d heard her approach, the metal cat-walks rattled too loudly for proper stealth. Instead, his head was bowed and he was clutching Jack’s hand in his own. As she reached the guardrail she could now _easily_ see how rough he looked. His shirt and blazer were ripped at the shoulder, tattered edges playing at the start of the wrappings on his left arm, that went all the way up to his shoulder. It didn’t look easy to move in, but maybe that was the point. The lower half of his shirt was stiff with dried blood, Jack’s or his own, she wasn’t sure, and his tie, a mid-tone purple, had been stained to near black from it.

“Would you like to be alone?” She asked cautiously from her view above him.

He startled at the sound of her voice, jerking his head up to look at her suddenly. Maybe he really _hadn’t_ known she was there.

He turned his face out a view again, but not quick enough that she missed the way his face was shining wetly.

“I thought you were Gwen,” he said then, directing his words to the wall.

“Would you rather I were Gwen?” she wondered, glancing down at him.

“... No,” he answered plainly after a moment of thought but gave nothing else away.

Slowly, she descended the stairs, still a bit nervous to set him off again, “you left your coffee,” she said, sort of as a peace offering.

He glanced over at her again then and, “thanks,” he said flatly, then a bit awkwardly he added, “if you don’t mind just, you can just leave it— anywhere.”

Right, she realized her mistake at having held it out to him, his one hand was occupied with the captain’s at the moment. She nodded quickly and withdrew it before deciding to sit the cup down on one of the spare equipment tables off to the side.

He didn’t say anything else, but he hadn’t told her to leave and she knew she hated to be alone when she was upset so she waited, folding her hands together in front of her.

“Has this,” she started slowly, watching for his reaction, “happened before?”

His eyes snapped up to her again, “no…” he drew the word out, “not this. Why do you ask?”

She rubbed her hands together, nervous, “just… the others didn’t seem… surprised, about, er, how you were, eh... taking it.”

“They were talking about me,” he surmised instantly, brows drawn down.

“N-not really,” she tried, back-peddling on her mistake, “they didn’t say very much, just that... maybe someone should talk to you.”

“So, they sent the newbie down to deal with me,” he said, voice low, “that wasn’t very _nice_ of them. Sorry ‘bout that,” he apologized simply like he was expecting that to be the end of it.

“I volunteered,” she spoke, and at that he faltered, glancing up at her again with wide eyes, he looked almost... _terrified_ at the idea.

“Why?” he asked, breathless.

She shrugged, not even really sure herself. If she was being honest, seeing this man acting so enraged was a bit terrifying but she found she didn’t want him to be alone. “You seemed upset,” was all she said.

“Well I am,” was all he said and his tone was short and clipped. By the sound of it, she suspected there might have been a sarcastic, ‘ _good eye_ ,’ that went unsaid, or something of the like. It _was_ a rather obvious statement, she supposed.

She shuffled her feet, unsure of what she’d thought she could accomplish by coming down here, she didn’t know this man, that much was clear. What could she possibly say to him?

She glanced down at her boss’s unmoving face and his hand being held by the man at his side. And said the first thing that came to mind, “I reckon you’re the closest he has to next of kin,” she observed, “so whatever decisions get made they should go through you first, yeah?”

He let out a strangled laugh at the statement, which _wasn’t_ really the reaction she’d been expecting. She watched him in trepidation as he took a breath, then, “yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agreed brokenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been so sleep deprived lately im just glad i got this chapter up!!! i hope you enjoy, and next chapter is Martha again.


	11. Martha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s dead,” she declared somberly when the movement under her finger stopped completely.
> 
> A few seconds later, there came the tell-tale gasp and they were all leaning into him, the beginnings of relieved smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late! things have been hectic lately!!

Ianto had yet to let go of Jack’s hand, Martha didn’t blame him. It seemed he’d resigned himself enough to endure her questions and even admitted he’d had more intense pain in his arm as they drove back, but that had faded and now all that was left was the ache of the wounds.

She’d rewrapped his arm, so he’d be able to move the elbow and offered him a chance to go clean himself up before she helped him put on the sling, but he’d been reluctant to let Jack’s still form out of his sight.

He only nodded when Martha had told him she was going to do some scans to determine exactly what state Jack was in, letting her work in peace, speaking only to ask about what the results were.

She swallowed heavily as she pulled the neural scanner away from Jack’s head. She stepped across to the computer to check back through the readout, double and triple-checking the results. But it said exactly what she’d first surmised.

“What is it?” Ianto asked, seeming to sense the shift in her demeanor. She pressed her lips together tightly before she turned to face him.

“Ianto… he’s— he’s technically brain-dead,” she said breaking the news to him as carefully as she could, “there’s no healing that. I’m not picking up any functional amount of synaptic activity in his brain, it’s like the autonomic functions of his breathing and heartbeat are the only things remaining intact,” she spoke, doing her best to explain, it was almost like something had completely fried his brain, but that didn’t make any sense given the circumstances, “I’m sorry,” she added mournfully.

Ianto simply nodded, staring down at Jack, “then we’ll do it,” he said heavily, “we’ll go through with Tosh’s plan.”

They all gathered, save for Lois who Martha had requested return to the tourist office and keep her post. Martha didn’t want her to see this, she was new to all this, and she didn’t need this to be her introduction. Not that Lois’s original encounter with extraterrestrial life hadn’t been singularly traumatizing, still, Martha would shield her from the worst if she could.

Ianto hadn’t strayed from his side, of course, watching Jack’s face, his own expression unmoved all the while. However, she didn’t miss the shine of tears in his eyes. Gwen was to the left of Ianto, smoothing a hand up and down his back. Tosh fidgeted on his right, her eyes darting nervously from Ianto’s face to Jack to Martha and back.

Martha steeled herself and prepared the lethal injection unflinchingly, this was something she’d never done before but she would do what she had to. She flicked the syringe and got rid of any air bubbles, then she pinpointed the vein before sliding the needle into place and steadily pushing down on the plunger.

After a long, drawn-out moment, Jack’s body began to convulse on the table in front of them. Tosh was quick to grab hold of him, this movement wasn’t a seizure, his body was reacting to the injection, while Gwen clutched onto Ianto’s arm. Though, Martha wasn’t sure if it was for her own comfort or his.

Then everything was still. Martha withdrew the needle and pressed two fingers to Jack’s throat, feeling his heartbeat slowly wind down after he stopped breathing.

“He’s dead,” she declared somberly when the movement under her finger stopped completely.

A few seconds later, there came the tell-tale gasp and they were all leaning into him, the beginnings of relieved smiles on their faces. And just like that he threw his head back unnaturally and screamed. He was seizing again and— “Get him on his side!” She reacted more readily to this unthinkable outcome than she’d thought she was capable of.

Their hands are on him again as they roll him to his side before they step away, all watching carefully keep him from falling or hurting himself. When he was still again, he was completely unresponsive. His eyes were open but glassy and staring through Ianto as he leaned over him and called his name desperately. Tear tracks were marking their way down Ianto’s cheeks, she tried not to dwell on the sight.

“Gwen, keep watch on him, I’m going to try and figure this out,” she said to the woman who’s expression had gone steely with determination once more, and Martha was stepping away to retrieve her equipment. “Give him space,” she told Ianto. Tosh was still close by his side, looking gutted.

They followed her instructions and by the time he was seizing for the third time, Tosh was sobbing on the stairs with Ianto curled around her protectively.

“What the hell is happening to him?” Gwen demanded of her, tear tracks shining on her red-splotchy face.

“I don’t know,” Martha bit the words out, nearing her wit's end. She ripped the stethoscope out of her ears, despairing, having absolutely no idea why Jack’s heart was beating sporadically as he seized and having no clue as to how this kept killing him. She was trying to keep herself together because this was where they needed her most, but right now she could hear Tosh behind her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know— I’m sorry,” she kept saying over, and over again.

And “It’s okay,” Ianto assured her, his own voice breaking over the word.

Gwen’s expression softened then, maybe some of Martha’s own heartbreak had shown on her face because now she spoke to her so gently, “ok, sweetheart, ok. We will figure this out soon enough, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for being late with this one!! I had a lot going on this week, it's been kinda stressful and I've been trying to catch up on sleep.
> 
> to make up for being late and for this chapter being so short, ill post the next one in a few days probably, crossing my fingers I get that done!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, and I'm so sorry for this!!


	12. Gwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We could put him in Flat Holm,” Gwen was quick to suggest, knowing Ianto was already aware of it.
> 
> “Martha will need to run tests on him, it’ll be easier to do that within the levels of the hub,” he countered, his words kept perfectly systematic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaah here it is i hope you enjoy!

Calling Rhys wasn’t even something she had to contemplate, they needed another pair of hands here. They were essentially two men down in their current circumstance and every one of them was wrung out. That, and Gwen wanted him by her side, his steady support and his unwavering dedication, she needed them more than ever after seeing Jack in that state.

They softly discussed checking him into a hospital to take care of him full time until they had a cure.

“I want to keep him here, under observation,” Martha spoke up, her shoulders were hunched over miserably, “I need time to figure this out.” Still, her expression was determined when she looked up at Gwen.

Gwen had directed them to relocate to the couch in the hub, taking charge temporarily when they needed it as she always had because it was easy to see they all needed to take a step back. The conference room still felt too big without Jack at the head of the table, and the autopsy bay with the unsettlingly still form of Jack had been too cold and clinical for comfort. Tosh was still sticking close to Ianto’s side and Martha was leaning heavily on the arm of the sofa like she was bearing the weight of the world.

“We have some of the medical set up we need,” Tosh spoke up, her eyes were still swollen from crying but she had straightened her spine a bit in an attempt at composure. “There's all the equipment you’ve been gathering, Martha,” Tosh pointed out kindly. She was right. When Martha had joined she’d insisted on them gathering more supplies to help care for living patients. Since then they’d slowly been amassing an arsenal of things like spare cots, blankets, and I.V. drips.

“All we would need are some nutritional doses for comatose patients and a catheter, then we could keep him safely in the hub.”

Martha’s brow furrowed as she considered this when Ianto spoke up. “Where?” was all he said for a moment and Gwen looked at him curiously. He surely knew best of them that they could easily procure what they needed from the hospitals who were used to hearing the name Torchwood.

Before she could ask, he followed up with, “where are we going to put him?” he questioned, voice low.

Martha glanced at him, “It’s not ideal, but, we could set up one of the spare storage rooms to care for him.”

Ianto’s face barely changed, with only the set of his mouth turning grim, like this was exactly what he’d been expecting. Tosh was staring at him now with bare horror written on her face.

“We could put him in Flat Holm,” Gwen was quick to suggest, knowing Ianto was already aware of it. He’d been the one to leave that package on her desk, she was almost certain of it. There was some basis to the claim that he ‘knows everything’ even if he might want people to think it was just a joke. It had shocked her earlier when he’d known how she accidentally revived Jack with a kiss after Abbadon, but there was very little that seemed to escape his scope, she should stop bothering being surprised by it.

“Martha will need to run tests on him, it’ll be easier to do that within the levels of the hub,” he countered, his words kept perfectly systematic.

Toshiko grabbed hold of his arm though, “Ianto, you can’t do that! We can find somewhere else to set him up— we can clear out a space in his office, use his bunker, or—” she started, suggesting alternatives in rapid-fire.

Ianto looked at her blankly, eyes red-rimmed. “It’s the most practical solution,” he assured her, then, “I want Jack back with us,” he emphasized carefully.

Reluctantly, Tosh nodded, looking heart-broken by the suggestion. This was quickly becoming a nasty echo of the past. Of course, this was still so very different from that, and they couldn’t dwell on it right now anyhow.

Lois’s voice chimed through her earpiece then, “Gwen, Rhys is here, shall I send him down?” the girl asked politely.

She lifted a hand to press the unmute button, “Yes, please do,” she answered instantly, ready to sag in relief at the thought of Rhys being with her now.

“I’ll get one of the cots out of storage,” Ianto said, standing abruptly, though how he planned to do it with just one arm was beyond her. Martha was quick to put a stop to it, thankfully.

“No, you’re not,” she spoke, standing too now, “you need rest.”

“I may only have one arm, but I’m still functional, I can help,” Ianto argued, his brows drawn down unhappily. He wanted to do something to keep his mind occupied, Gwen suspected. “I won’t just sit here,” he told her darkly.

“You’re my patient and I am your superior officer,” Martha countered instantly, unfazed by his determination, “you need rest,” she told him in a clipped tone, “sit back down,” she ordered.

Ianto worked his jaw for a second like he might try to protest again, but then he was sagging back into the couch, looking utterly miserable.

“Tosh,” Martha spoke then, stepping past Ianto and towards the lift for the lower levels. “with me, please,” she requested, waiting until the woman stood to follow before striding forward purposefully.

Toshiko sent several concerned glances over her shoulder towards Ianto but left with Martha without a word.

Gwen moved to sit down beside him then, “he’ll be ok,” she assured him softly, not moving to touch him just yet.

“I know,” Ianto murmured dejectedly.

“You just—” She started to say and was cut off as the cog door rolled open and Rhys came rushing in.

“Gwen!” he called out as he beelined towards her and she jumped up to meet him, moving past the couch into his arms, letting him grab her tight and nearly lift her in his embrace.

“Rhys, I’m so glad you’re here,” she grinned into his shoulder before he pulled away to look her over.

“You not hurt, are you?” he questioned, brushing aside her hair to examine her face between his warm hands.

“No, Rhys, I told you, Jack needs help,” she muttered in exasperated fondness, he was always worrying over her these days.

“This have anything to do with you giving him what-for the other day?” Rhys questioned, keeping his voice to a whisper. At least he had sense enough to be discreet when asking that. 

She grimaced at the question, shaking her head quickly. “No, no, this is different.”

“Well, just tell me what you need,” he spoke, looking resolute and reliable as ever, she grinned at him, before turning to look towards the autopsy bay and better explain the situation. Then she caught sight of Ianto staring at them dispassionately and her smile wilted.

Their displays of affection might sting a bit for Ianto and she was quick to step away from Rhys entirely at the realization.

She whipped her head back towards Rhys then, giving him a warning look, “well, not much right now,” she started explaining, “until Tosh and Martha get back up. But we’ll sit with Ianto and play cards or something, hm?”

Rhys’s eyes darted between her and the man on the couch quickly before he nodded in agreement, “ok, sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be a little more than a week til next chapter bc i don't wanna throw off my whole schedule but I just wanted to post this one a bit early. Next chapter is from Tosh's POV, which is long overdue but we'll get some more of her later on too I promise!!


	13. Tosh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tosh’s chest clenched, her face crumpled at the thought of betraying Ianto’s trust like this. She could still remember the pure anguish in his head. The pain he thought would never end, that he wasn’t sure how he could go on when his world had been shattered so entirely. Tosh knew what it was like to see only bleak isolation in your future, with everything you had being lost.

“So, what was that?” Martha spoke as soon as they were stepping out for the lift and Toshiko glanced at her curiously.

“What was what?” she asked in return, feeling slight trepidation for the answer. She didn’t imagine whatever Martha was asking might be light-hearted, or anything easy to answer, not with everything that was going on.

“Why didn’t you want to put Jack in the lower levels?” Martha met her gaze with a measured look. Of course, she would want to know that, Tosh thought bleakly; no one had mentioned it to Martha. No one would want to, no one would need to, why should they when it was behind them? When it would only bring up painful memories for Ianto?

She swallowed, dropping her eyes, “I’m… not really sure it’s my place to tell.”

“Will it help me understand Ianto’s mindset?” Martha spoke, “because if so, it’s pertinent for me to know,” she spoke calmly. These questions weren’t asked out of simple curiosity, it was out of concern for her patients. Telling her might help Ianto.

Tosh’s chest clenched, her face crumpled at the thought of betraying Ianto’s trust like this. She could still remember the pure anguish in his head. The pain he thought would never end, that he wasn’t sure how he could go on when his world had been shattered so entirely. Tosh knew what it was like to see only bleak isolation in your future, with everything you had being lost.

“You don’t understand,” Tosh pleaded with her, “it’s something so personal to him, he was in so much pain. If anyone gets to choose who knows it’s _Ianto_. But please don’t ask him, it’ll only hurt him more.”

Martha seemed to consider this for a moment, “is there anything you can tell me about it? No details, just anything vague about what I should avoid saying?”

Tosh hesitated, “he’s… been through this before, in a way,” she provided carefully, “this is probably reminding him of it, coupled with the fact that Jack is hurt, he’s under a great deal of stress. Tread carefully,” Tosh advised firmly, though she knew Martha was already aware of that, “and maybe…” she contemplated with a small shrug, “if we can make this space look a little less barren, less like we’re stashing Jack away, that might make it better.” She let out a small sigh, it was a thought, only having occurred to her because they were talking about it, but it made sense. Make this look more like a room and less like a desperate, hidden effort. Still, it was such a lonely place when searching for a way to save a loved one, but maybe they could change the context.

“Okay,” Martha nodded, “then that’s what we’ll do.”

* * *

They managed to find an actual mattress and bedframe among the small, more temporary military cots. It was made for a single person, but it would fit Jack and hopefully be more comfortable than a cot. Not that he’d be aware of it, Tosh thought, going by what Martha said he wasn’t any more aware than a corpse might be. The thought was chilling.

“Would it help to let Ianto pick which room, or set it up ourselves?” Martha asked as they finished pulling the mattress out from its place wedged against an industrial shelving unit. They leaned back against the wall behind them to catch their breath.

Tosh glanced at her. Most people looked to Gwen, who was just upstairs, for advice on emotional matters. But, maybe it was just that Gwen was the best of them at reaching out to others, heart on her sleeve and all that, and not the most sensitive of them. If that was the only consideration then everyone might go to Ianto for advice. Tosh herself wasn’t well equipped to deal with these things. She preferred the steel threads of logic in maths, the solid building blocks and intricate details of coding, or the way mechanics and conduits under her fingers seem to just click together like the blueprint she had in her brain. But this was _Ianto_ they were talking about.

Tosh and Ianto had an unspoken understanding between them, they both grasped each other's need for privacy, for a separation between family matters and the life they lived. It wasn’t like they confided every secret they had to one another, but without having to be shown they knew how to comfort the other. Knew when to give them distance, when to fill the silence, and when to maintain it. Maybe it was a product of being hunted by cannibals together, along with everything they’d been through since. Or maybe it was just that they had similar dispositions, the same quiet consideration, the same want to fit in where they never had before. 

She almost thought of Ianto like a younger brother, if she’d ever had one, but it had always just been her and her mom. Her father had been so far away, after all, her parents had split when she was young. So, most days were spent on her own while her mother worked to keep them afloat. She would have loved having a brother. 

She hated seeing him like this, especially after having had just one glimpse into his head. It was… heart-breaking.

“We should give him the choice,” she spoke decisively, “he’ll want to have some control over this, and it’s like Lois told us, we should consider him as Jack’s next of kin.”

Martha nodded, “I just know it’s hard to make those kind decisions with loved ones in mind, but we’ll be sure to clear everything with Ianto beforehand,” she sounded almost distracted, staring at the far wall and not having moved yet.

She wondered if Martha had seen this all happen before. She was a doctor, after all. Had she seen people break under the pressure of not knowing what choice was best? Had she ever broken down under that weight herself?

Tosh knew it hardened people, she had seen it in Owen. After they first met, it wasn’t as if he’d been happy, _no_ , of course not. Not after what had happened to his fiancé. But he had cared, or, allowed himself too. He had always wanted to _save_ people, but there was a time when he hadn’t been that cynical man, with jagged edges around his heart. 

It was what had been behind all that she’d wanted to find, that patient, attentive man she could glimpse from time to time.

Of course, he was gone now, but Tosh hoped the same thing never happened to Martha. That she never got broken shards wedged in her heart and she never had to cut out the part of her that cared just so it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“C’mon,” Tosh spoke, drawing her back to the present, reaching out with a gentle nudge of her elbow. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let’s get the bedframe and lean it up here, so it’ll be ready to grab when we know which room. Then we can head back up to the others.”

Martha gave her a slight smile, “Thanks, Tosh,” she told her kindly.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was thanking her for but she smiled back in kind, knitting her brows in confusion. “You’re welcome?” she tried with a questioning lift of her voice with the words.

Martha’s smile grew but she seemed to recognize her uncertainty, “you’re good to talk to, is all.” Then she pushed off the wall and started for the disassembled bed frame.

Tosh considered the words, moving after her. “No one’s ever told me that before,” she admitted.

“Really?” Martha looked genuinely surprised and Toshiko smiled at her unfounded shock.

“I can be rather… awkward,” she pointed out, wrinkling her nose as she said it.

“Well,” Martha responded slowly as they both reached to lift the metal frame, “I think you have a very clear perspective, you see what some people can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so sorry for having been gone for a while, i had a rough two weeks and i was pretty busy so this was on the back burner. Updates will probably be less regular from now on cause of life stuff and it will help my writing if i don't have the pressure of editing/updating chapters vs writing out more of the story. so, yeah.
> 
> I just wanna say i don't always know how to respond to comments but i appreciate them even if i don't reply <333
> 
> also, this is minor, but I've heard Tosh did have a brother but he died? i don't know the source for that and i also didn't know it when this was written so I'm just gonna stick with what i wrote here and i may tweak what she says later if i learn more but the point is just that tosh thinks of ianto as a little brother and that's what i wanted to write
> 
> thanks for sticking with me, and sorry again for being gone! next chapter is ianto's pov, he's back!! dunno when it will come out, but hopefully not as long as this chapter took.


	14. Ianto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still, in Ianto’s case, it was different. He was not the larger than life American, he was not the dashing hero, not the one who commanded attention and refused to back down. He was just some bloke in a suit, one who took pains not to stand out too much because he knew that was how trouble always found you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know its been about four months so sorry about that but i did come back, i havent written anything new yet, just edited this chapter to post but maybe my motivation for this fic will come back and i can finish it off eventually.
> 
> warnings for flashbacks (like pstd related), descriptions of gore/blood, and panic attacks basically ??

Ianto tried to be patient, sitting between Gwen and Rhys, which he thought was their attempt to be comforting, but more than anything it made him feel crowded and trapped. He stood abruptly after winning the third game in a row and stepped past the coffee table. The way they were trying to force a sense of cheer was tiring, he’d rather suffer in tense silence than this.

They didn’t stop him but he could practically feel Gwen’s stare boring into his back. He felt itchy, and hollowed-out, like someone scooped everything out of him and didn’t bother to replace it with anything.

He heard Rhys speaking at a whisper as soon as he was a few meters away, standing beside the table where they eat. Apparently, Rhys was not very good at _subtle_. Though, Ianto’s ears had been honed from years of listening for his dad’s movement’s through the house. Then, into keeping careful observation over the hub to keep himself unnoticed. And these days his senses were accustomed to always being on alert. So maybe it wasn’t _Rhys_ that spoke too loud, maybe Ianto could just hear _too well_. Knew too much.

“What’s got ‘im so messed up?”

“He’s upset,” Gwen hissed back, then said something else he couldn’t quite make out.

“Why? This his fault some’ow?” He stiffened at the question, he had no idea if they noticed his hackles rising or caught the rigid line of his shoulders.

Until Gwen objected, “no! He was just there when it happened, and he’s worried about Jack, like the rest of us.”

There were a few things Ianto could gather from this. The first was that Gwen was wrong. This was Ianto’s fault, he’d engaged the creature, unprepared. He’d been wounded, which had caused Jack to come and treat him, and then he’d watched Jack be stabbed in the chest, only caring about protecting Ianto. And now he may be stuck like this forever, undying and unliving.

The second was that Gwen didn’t blame him. Which he was almost shocked by, considering how she felt about Jack. He’d been there, and he’d let this happen to Jack, the person he was supposed to protect, for all the time he could. And now all he could do was watch him, caught in the space between life and death.

The third was that Gwen had not told Rhys that he and Jack were a “couple,” as she referred to them. Though, that was _not_ how Jack referred to them. He simply did not refer to them, at all, and Ianto had given up trying to subtly ask him for words or definitions. He wasn’t sure if she had neglected this fact out of respect for himself and Jack (not that Jack would care if Rhys knew) or out of concern for Rhys’s reaction. Either way, Ianto was grateful for it.

Ianto didn’t know Rhys well enough to gauge his reaction towards Ianto if he knew. Jack projected enough that most people had an inkling. Though, he’d underestimated people’s obliviousness before, so maybe he shouldn’t assume.

Still, in Ianto’s case, it was different. He was not the larger than life American, he was not the dashing hero, not the one who commanded attention and refused to back down. He was just some bloke in a suit, one who took pains not to stand out too much because he knew that was how trouble always found you. He was the local, the quiet one, the one who looked stood there and looked nice, the one who everyone expected to be normal until they found out you’re not, and it became... _uncomfortable_. Until you became _unacceptable_. _When it was unbearable_.

He turned back around, “you want coffee?” he asked them, cutting off their hushed conversation and trying to look composed. Because Rhys could tell that he wasn’t and Rhys didn’t even _know_ him.

Gwen looked up, concerned, “you need help with that? With your arm?”

He shook his head, quirking his lips slightly.

“I could make coffee blindfolded with my hands cuffed behind my back,” he told her, keeping his tone perfectly flat, it was easy when he felt so hollow, to keep his words so empty and without real intent. He was fine, Gwen. He wanted to project the idea to her: He was joking, so he was _fine_ , Gwen.

“I’ll have one then— if you’re offering,” Rhys said easily and Ianto almost wanted to sag in relief, just this one thing he could do.

Gwen smacked his arm. “‘Oi! The man is wounded, and you’re just gonna let ‘im make you coffee?” She demanded.

“He asked!” Rhys defended himself, throwing a hand out in Ianto’s direction

“It’s alright, Gwen,” Ianto was quick to interject, “I’d like for something to do,” and realized his mistake, “...other than play cards,” he added, which was, not his most tactful.

“We not smart enough for you?” Rhys asked sharply and Ianto froze.

He wasn't _serious_ , Ianto realized after a moment of panic and trying to parse his tone. Good, if Gwen refused to relent then at least Rhys would play along. It was exhausting to keep pretending, but it was the only thing he could do, he couldn’t just keep letting everyone see him fall apart.

Ianto smiled thinly in return as he stepped behind the counter and toward the coffee maker. He glanced at the man still sitting on the couch and tapped one finger to his temple. “Eidetic memory, it’s practically cheating in card games,” he explained mildly before he turned back to the machine.

“What’s _eidetic_ mean?” Rhys asked.

Gwen was the one to answer, “photographic memory.”

“Ah,” Rhys mused, “no wonder.”

The coffee maker started burbling, a familiarly pleasant sound, he let it soothe him. Ianto didn’t plan to say anything else unless he was prompted. He and Rhys seemed to have come to a silent agreement about this but Ianto could see Gwen fidgeting anxiously in his periphery.

The sound of footsteps echoing from the entrance to the lower levels caught his attention just as Gwen stood to greet the sound.

“Found a good room?” Gwen called out as soon as Tosh and Martha came into view.

“We were going to ask Ianto if he’d like to decide which one,” Martha announced as they walked closer, and suddenly all eyes were on him where he stood at the coffee maker. There was an uncomfortable prickling beneath his skin, suddenly he felt much too hot. His heart rate picked up as he struggled to gain control of his throat trying to close up.

“I suppose... I do know the lower levels best,” he drew the words out slowly, carefully keeping his voice from sounding as choked as he felt. As he spoke he looked from Martha and Tosh then very deliberately towards Rhys and back to them, hoping they would catch his meaning.

“Yes,” Martha agreed easily, “you don’t have to decide right away—”

He cut her off, “I will,” he said instantly. He mourned silently as he turned away from the coffee machine and the comfort of routine, but this wouldn’t take long. “I’ll decide now. Best we set him up somewhere sooner than later.”

“You… can come down and look with us, then?” Tosh answered, glancing at Martha as if to see if she might object, but the doctor didn’t seem perturbed.

“You two can go down,” Martha spoke, gesturing to Toshiko, “I’m going to have another look over Jack and decide what other supplies we’ll need.”

Ianto nodded, he would be glad to get away from everyone, even if he was reluctant to leave Jack’s vicinity for long. As if he might just miraculously wake up when Ianto wasn’t there and he wouldn’t be able to reassure him. Or, as if he might _not_ wake up, might never, and Ianto was just drifting closer to that reality every moment he wasn’t there to watch him breathe and tell himself it was only temporary.

He shook himself from those thoughts and stepped around to meet Toshiko at the entrance to the lower levels. This wouldn’t take long, he already knew which room he was going to use.

It was one of the ones just down the hall from the lift, it was convenient. It wasn’t at the lowest level, not like… Lisa’s was. Not like when he was trying to heal her while trying to keep her out of sight. Locked up and safe from harm, to herself or others. But not safe enough.

This room, this room, the one for Jack. It was the same. It was also empty concrete behind a big door with a sliding-bolt on it, but they would— they would leave that bolt open. People would be going in and out. And it was not quite so damp, the floor didn’t dip enough to form puddles— Not like Lisa’s room, pools of blood.

The freshly stitched wound on the face of the delivery girl, spouting memories, private memories that shouldn’t have come from that mouth. The bang, bang, bang, _bang_ , echoing over and over. The firing squad made up of his teammates, mowing her down. He knew— he _knew_. She’d asked him to become like her, that they could be un-personed together, joined forever with nothing to feel for it. Lisa was dead. His Lisa was dead. His world was over, Lisa was dead.

He stumbled as they stepped out of the lift and he dragged himself back into the present, trying to dispel the memory.

Tosh hesitated at the first door they passed but followed his lead as he simply strolled past each one until he reached the room he’d been thinking of. The door was different, it slid open, rather than swinging, he pulled it aside, trying to slow his breathing as he stepped over the threshold.

He remembered exploring these levels for the first time, keeping quiet, on his own, any time he had a chance. He remembered staying through the night, rebuilding the patched-up conversion unit in that room until his legs went cold and he couldn’t feel his fingers, but he knew they were aching like the rest of him. He remembered stepping back out of the lift, shivering, and walking over to the coffee maker to start the day, with the same clothes from yesterday and his trousers damp from the floor. No one had noticed.

“Ianto, are you alright?” Tosh asked, standing in the doorway behind him. He’d let out an uneven breath he realized belatedly. He clenched his eyes shut in frustration. With himself for letting it slip, with Tosh for asking, with the world, with _everything_.

“I’m fine,” he responded, voice clipped.

Then, one small hand was on the back of his ruined suit jacket, it was the lightest of pressures, gentle, careful, barely there. But it felt like a punch to the gut. And he folded forwards, away from Toshiko and curled in on himself, away from the world. He was crouching on the ground now, ragged breathing, his arm curled around his legs and he felt so pathetic. _She can see you, she can see you, she can see you._

“Ianto,” Toshiko was saying insistently, “Ianto can you hear me?” She didn’t sound upset with him. Her voice was even and calm. As hesitant as she could be in everyday life, she never faltered in a crisis.

He clenched his teeth and wished he could answer without his voice shaking but settled for a stiff nod. He let himself fall back so he was sitting on the ice-cold concrete, hugging himself with one arm, looking like a child. It was familiar, as familiar as pain blooming in his knees as he fell to the floor, watching that girl slump dead against the conversion unit, tears streaming down his face. _Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang._ Echoed in his ears.

“Do you know where you are?” She started to ask.

“I can come down here,” he said suddenly, or more like yelled, everything was so loud. His voice echoed around the empty room. “I can come down here without— without th-this! So, why? Why now?” he demanded— to _no one_ — to himself. He could be useful right here, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, _he couldn’t_.

“You’re under a lot of stress right now, Ianto. It makes sense that your mental stability has been sapped. But you’re ok,” she assured him. The words were cold, cold as the floor. ‘Mental stability,’ like he was a headcase, he _was_ a headcase he supposed.

His mother had cracked under the pressure just the same as this. He remembered his father shaking her, trying to get her to stand up, as she rocked herself on the floor, looking just like this.

“Is this the room you want to use?” Tosh asked suddenly and he found himself looking at her at that, _actually_ looking at her.

“Yes,” he answered hoarsely, letting go of his knees to swipe a hand across his eyes, smearing away the tears that had fallen there. Tosh was sitting on the floor now too, her legs folded in front of her, he stared at her knees, unable to bring himself to look her in the eye.

“You already knew which one?” She asked lightly.

He nodded to this question, not wanting to speak again.

“Well,” she said, dropping her hands to rest on her knees, “we can just go back up then. I know which one we’re setting up in now.” If she were Gwen, he thought she might’ve demanded why he came down here anyway when he could have just told her which room. But she wasn’t Gwen, and she didn’t question him. He was thinking Tosh already _knew_ why. It was the same reason she had that quiet steel underlying her skin, the one that made her eyes spark with excitement when they were in dire straits. The way she had to face those problems head-on.

He’d wanted to show himself he could come down here and pick out a room to store the love of his life in until he could be healed. It was the _need_ to prove something, do something right, fix things, or make some sense of it all. It was the same need that drove them all.

He nodded to her and made to stand, catching himself on the wall as he got off balance. She stood with him and didn't touch him as they walked. After a long tense moment, he brushed his elbow against her, a silent apology, and a thank you, and an offer. He saw her smile out of the corner of his eye as she took his arm, and he almost felt like he could breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who's shown me support with this story <33
> 
> next chapter is martha's pov.
> 
> sorry i came back only with more sadness but i hope people liked reading it anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Encouraging comments are greatly appreciated, they help motivate me if you want more!


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